The Many Layers Of A Beating Heart
by Clockwork Mockingbird
Summary: People aren't two dimensional. There are surprises and imperfections in everyone. Eliot's flaw isn't that he doesn't care- it's that he cares too much. E/P
1. Layer One

**A/N:** This **will** be multi-chapter. If this goes as planned (what am I saying... fics never go as planned) this will turn into a case fic with a twist, some angst, some romance, and maybe even some smut. This is going to be interesting. Relatively new fandom for me, so be gentle. Written between work and sleep and other stories I really should be writing on. Oh look, there goes my sanity. Bye sanity! Byeeeeeeee!

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><p>Soft footsteps made Eliot turn around. Parker stood nervously behind him, idly twisting one finger in her hands in way that would have made Sophie smirk if she'd been playing a mark. However this was Parker and he wasn't Sophie. Parker being nervous set him on edge in less than a second. She was never nervous- the woman jumped off buildings for Christ's sake. If she was nervous or scared, Eliot had every reason to be wary.<p>

He didn't even bother pretending like he hadn't noticed her uneasiness and stood. "What is it?"

Parker nervously gnawed on her lip and didn't look at him. She suddenly realized she was picking her finger raw and dropped her hands, hooking her fingers in her belt loops like she'd seen Eliot do hundreds of times.

"I need some help," Parker admitted, stubbornly staring at the counter. She ran a hand over it, flicking away imaginary dust as she did.

"You in trouble?" Eliot felt his wariness beginning to give way to worry. The last time Parker had been in trouble she'd been trapped in a building with a security system even Hardison had trouble hacking into, a strange man calling to tell them she was minutes away from being caught and probably killed. He still bristled at the memory. Parker hadn't come to them, hadn't trusted them enough to ask for help.

And then, when they were seconds away from getting her out safely, she decides she's staying and completing the job. She didn't try to plead with Eliot, hanging forty stories in the air off a building, no she simply smiled at him. An 'it's okay' smile. A 'you don't have to follow me' smile. And she'd turned her back on him and bolted.

Eliot hadn't told anyone the glass had been broken before Nate's sharp command had reached his ears. By the time the Mastermind had thought of something Eliot was knocking out the guy who'd pulled a gun on the Thief. She'd smiled at him again- thanks, relief, and a touch of smug- and he'd just glared. But he'd followed her in. He'd helped her without being asked.

Now Parker was before him and she was asking.

"No," she hurriedly assured him, eyes snapping up to meet his. "Maybe eventually but not now, no."

Eliot blinked once, then twice, then furrowed his brow, eyes narrowing. She was making less sense than normal. "If you don't start makin' sense I'll walk outta that door. Now tell me what you need." He tried keeping his temper out of his voice but it leaked into the edges. Parker'd always had a way of pissing him off faster than anyone else he knew.

"Teach me to fight," Parker blurted almost too quick to catch.

"You know how to fight," Eliot reminded her. "It's been a while but I showed you those holds, remember?"

"No I mean something different." Parker held his gaze. "I want you to show me what to do if I've got two guys coming at me, one with a gun and the other already swinging. I want to know how to do that."

That didn't make Eliot feel any better. "You sure you're not in any trouble?" he asked, gently this time. Parker nodded, but Eliot saw her drop her gaze. "Parker-" he warned.

"I'm not in trouble!" she insisted, glancing back at him.

"Then what's this about?"

"I just wanna know what to do when you're not there."

It hit Eliot like a good punch in the gut. He actually felt winded. Logically he knew it made sense to show Parker how to take down more than one guy- what would happen if she was cornered by two or three and he was too far away to help? But the thought of _being_ too far away to help her, of Parker going against guns and knives instead of lasers and motion detectors alone...

Parker began gnawing on her lip again, growing more nervous under his intense gaze.

"Okay," Eliot decided. The door swung open behind them but he paid it no mind. He could tell by the faint smell of whiskey that it was Nate and Sophie. "When we're done here we'll go to the gym."

Parker broke into a brilliant grin and nodded, bouncing a little on her toes. "Cereal," she declared, bounding into the kitchen to raid the cabinets as if nothing had happened. It was so Parker that Eliot shook his head and turned to hide his grin, gruffly brushing past Nate.

Sophie was smiling at something he couldn't see. He ignored her.

"Where's Hardison?" Nate asked the room at large.

Eliot shrugged. "Wasn't here when we got here."

Parker leapt over the back of the couch and settled next to Eliot. Neither her milk nor her cereal spilled so much as a drop. Eliot nudged her with his elbow, pointedly glancing at his hand covered by her thigh. Parker followed his gaze down, laughing when she saw, leaning over so he could free his hand. Eliot rolled his eyes and shifted to his right, away from her.

Hardison blew into the apartment, bottles of orange soda dropping from his bag, his arms, even from his pockets. One hit the floor and exploded, covering the floor and wall, and Hardison himself, in sticky orange fizz. The Hacker let out a groan and hurried forward, depositing the rest of the soda on the couch as he passed. Eliot shifted left barely in time to avoid a lap full of bottles that varied between half full and empty.

"Dammit Hardison!" he barked, adjusting his balance so he wasn't lounging against Parker's arm. "What the hell is this?"

Hardison ignored him. He was typing fast, eyes trained on the screens. Numbers flew past, pictures, documents, something about a scandal and a possible love child. Eliot squinted at the screens and tried to piece it all together. Parker munched loudly on her cereal beside him.

"Hardison what is all this?" Sophie asked, dabbing a napkin at her shirt in hopes of removing the moisture before it stained.

"Did that say UFO?" Eliot demanded.

"I saw camels," Parker offered.

"Hardison," Nate started. "What-"

"This!" Hardison declared. The images slowed and finally stopped, revealing a picture of a young red headed woman holding a little boy. They were both smiling but if you knew to look you could see the faint lines of tension around the woman's eyes. The boy was so young he didn't seem to realize a picture was being taken, his grin focused on something out of frame.

"You found them." Nate started to smile.

Hardison's grin could put the sun in a shadow. "I found them in one day baby."

"Who's them?" Parker asked. She began slurping her milk.

Eliot rolled his eyes for the third time in the past five minutes. "Really?" he asked her. "You have to do that every time you eat cereal?"

Parker looked shocked he'd even ask. "I can't waste the milk!"

"So put it in a glass and quit slurping it." He turned his attention back to Hardison. He lifted one finger from his beer bottle and pointed at the screens. "Who are they?"

Hardison grabbed his remote. "They are the daughter and grandson of congressman George Malcom."

Sophie looked up from her dabbing. "Congressman Malcom doesn't have a daughter. He has a son though."

"Illegitimate child," Nate informed them. "With an illegitimate grandchild. Both of whom were kidnapped three days ago. Congressman Malcom has asked for Hardison's help."

"I owed him a favor," Hardison explained. "Malcom just found out about his daughter last year. They decided to keep it quiet until the commotion from Malcom's last bill died down."

"Someone found out about the daughter," Eliot guessed. "And kidnapped her and her son to force Malcom to remove his bill. Someone rich losing money over the bill?"

Nate nodded distractedly. Eliot watched the pieces start to fall into place in Nate's head and began chugging his beer. They'd be moving out in about five seconds and he didn't want to leave a perfectly good beer to go warm and stale on Nate's coffee table. It never tasted the same even if he forced the cap back on and stuck it in the fridge. Besides he didn't have time. There was a kid involved. They'd need to hurry.

"Okay Hardison you know where they are right?" At Hardison's nod Nate spun on his heel to face them. "Let's go steal some people."

"That's a new one," Parker commented. "Is he drunk?"

Eliot tossed his bottle across the room to the trashcan without looking, eyeing Nate critically. He held this thumb and pointer finger of his left hand an inch apart. "A little," he told her.

"That's not so bad." She dumped her bowl on the coffee table, patting his knee as she stood. "Let's go. I've got people to steal."

Eliot wondered if it was possible to sprain the muscles responsible for eye rolling. But he followed.

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><p>Eliot's shoulder, arm, and leg were sore. He even thought his face was sore. Pretty sure his knuckles weren't happy either. He'd had to take care of a guard hired by the Russians- always the Russians- when he'd caught on to Parker and had gone for her. Parker had danced out of the way easily enough but Hardison had seen it through the cameras and Eliot and bolted for them. It was satisfying to smash the Russian's face with his fist but now he was paying the price for it.<p>

He almost didn't go to the gym but he remembered Parker's face, apprehensive, asking for help and afraid to ask. Afraid to ask him-_ him_- for help. Parker had never been afraid of anything. Except horses. But she'd done the job years ago because he'd asked her. Had he ever paid her back for that?

"You're here," Parker stood from a stretch, eyes wide.

"Said I would be didn't I?" Eliot growled, throwing his bag down.

"It's just..."

"What?" He bit out, sharper than he meant to. Parker flinched. She shook her head and began to back away. Eliot felt his stomach bottom out. Not for the first time he told himself he was an idiot. "Parker-"

"No it's okay," she interrupted quietly. She wouldn't look at him. "I asked for your help. You didn't have to do this. Still don't." She picked up her bag, threw the strap over her shoulder. She still wouldn't look at him. "I'll go."

Eliot's hand shot out before she could brush past him. "Stop." Now _he_ couldn't look at her. "You asked for help. I'm gonna help you."

"No, you're hurt. I didn't think about it."

"Parker." Never had he been more grateful to be able to silence with one word. He slid his fingers up her arm, taking the bag and tossing it across the room. Parker stood stock still, eyes downcast as he moved to face her. "Get in your stance."

He didn't know why she wanted to learn more. Parker was fast and she was small. People would, and often did, underestimate her strength. Even Tara, who'd worked with her, had been surprised at the strength the blonde thief had. With Parker's reflexes and muscles honed by hanging from buildings and backflipping through lasers, she could easily take someone out with only a few punches. She wasn't anywhere near Eliot's level, but she could hold her own.

Eliot really didn't want to question Parker's motives. He just wanted to get her educated so she'd be safe and gone. He had a case of beer with his name on it. The game was recording. He had a few girls he could call up. He refrained from mentioning any of it and focused instead on Parker's stance. Rusty but still good, still solid. He slid a leg between hers to nudge her foot over with his.

"Stance is good," he muttered, stripping to his wife beater and the shorts he'd thrown on under his sweats. He'd kicked his shoes off automatically before going on the mats, years of habit not letting him set foot off the floor while his shoes were still on.

Parker flexed her fist, rolling her shoulders a bit, eyes on him. At least she could look at him now.

"We'll do some of the more advanced stuff one-on-one for now," Eliot began, rolling his own shoulders. "Once your good with that we'll work on taking out two men."

Parker nodded silently. Eliot wondered if he should be worried about a silent Parker but pushed the thought to the back of his tired mind. It was Parker. Who knew why she did anything? He couldn't afford to ponder it as he fought her though. His mind had to be clear if he didn't want to accidentally hurt her.

For the next hour he threw punches and kicks her way. He faked punches and kicked her feet out from under her. He dodged her hits easily, though he nearly caught a knee to the face when he slowed. He kept forgetting how fast she was. Eliot was thinking about upping his game when he struggled to pinned her, keeping her down with a knee on her chest. He was careful not to press down too hard- he didn't want to bruise her.

_Any more than she already is_, he thought, catching site of smooth skin where her shirt had lifted. The pale skin was marred with violent purple and black bruises. Eliot took one look and knew, scrambling off her and yanking her to her feet.

"You should have said something," he growled, pressing gently on her side to check for fluid build up.

Parker flinched only slightly but it was enough for him. Nothing was broken but the bruises were into the sore stage, everything stiff and only getting more stiff. It had to hurt for her to move. It had to hurt for her to breathe. Eliot scowled and lead her to the bench her bag had landed on.

"Stay right there," he ordered. "I mean it Parker, you move and I'll come after you. I'll pin you again if I have to."

He stomped into the workout room, hopping the front desk like he had every right to do so. He heard Tank come up but ignored him, grabbing the first aid kit before he turned around. "Tank," he greeted. He began digging in the kit, checking the supplies.

"Spencer." Tank was four inches taller than Eliot and about eight inches wider. He had muscles the size of footballs and a grin that could disarm almost anyone. He'd gotten the nickname back in his bodybuilding days when he'd bent tank metal, keeping it when a blown knee had kept him out of the Iron Man competition in 2005. He'd won it twice before and used the prize money to open up the gym. Eliot had liked him as soon as they'd met. Tank hadn't tried to kill him yet and had even given Eliot a key to the gym.

"Sometimes you just gotta hit somethin'," he'd drawled as he handed it over. "I'd rather you waste a few punching bags than some thug on the street."

Eliot hadn't even tried to argue with him and had taken the key. Tank wouldn't have taken no for an answer anyways- he was a bit more southern than Eliot and therefore more stubborn. Not to mention he could probably break the Hitter over his knee without breaking a sweat.

"What'cha doing Spencer?" Tank reached under the counter and pulled out a fresh roll of gauze, tossing in the kit Eliot was going through.

"My friend thought it was a good idea to fight while already bruised," Eliot snarled, slamming the kit shut. He hopped the counter again, stalking back to the sparring mats without another word. The revolving doors didn't slam but they came pretty close.

Parker was still sitting on the bench. "You're scary when you're mad," she told him.

Eliot heard Tank's snort and ignored him.

"Let's see those bruises," he ordered, kneeling at Parker's feet. When she hesitated he reached out, intending to lift her shirt himself. Her hand shot out, batting his away. With a resigned sigh, Parker slowly, like it was hard to do so, lifted the shirt over her head, revealing her black sports bra, her pale expanse of skin, and the dark marks crawling from her hip to her ribs.

"Jesus Parker."

"Honey how in the hell did you-" Tank broke off, eyed them both, and straightened. "Spencer is this one of them things I don't wanna know about?"

Eliot cracked and shook an ice pack. "Sure is."

Tank smiled at Parker, gave her a little salute, and began walking out of the room. "Lock up when you're done Spencer," he called over his shoulder.

Parker inhaled sharply. "Cold!" she shrieked.

"Deal with it." Eliot's throat was going to be sore if he kept growling at her. "Did this happen on the job?"

Parker watched Eliot wind the gauze around the ice pack and secure it to her ribs. "The guard got some kicks in," she told him. She glanced at the doors, wondering if Tank was outside listening. Eliot trusted him but she didn't know him and it made her nervous that he might know about the team.

"Why would you want sparring lessons if you're hurt?"

Parker shifted, uncomfortable even though the burn in her side was slowly easing away. "You're not always around to protect me. Sometimes Nate or Hardison or Sophie need you." She poked at the ice pack he had in his hands. He jerked it away. "If I can fight too you won't have to get so beat up."

Eliot wasn't sure if he was going to break the ice pack or throw it across the room. "You want to learn to fight... so you can protect me?"

She shrugged. "Someone has to." She gently touched his split lip, tapping it lightly and never breaking his gaze.

He wasn't quite sure what to do with that. So he taped the other ice pack to her shoulder silently. Stalling. Trying to gather his thoughts. Knowing the packs had to give her a chill he tossed his sweatshirt at her. It would be big enough for her to shrug into without too much trouble.

"Every hit I take is one the rest of you don't have to feel," he told her, pulling on the shirt so her head was free. He brushed her hair across her shoulders. "I'm the Hitter. It's my job to protect the rest of you."

Parker's mouth twisted. "But who protects you?" she asked.

_No one's protected me in a long time_ he thought but didn't say, sinking to the bench next to her. Parker nudged him with her elbow, then again when he didn't look at her.

"I'll make a deal with you," she said, turning to study the far wall. "I'll stop breaking into your apartment if you take better care of yourself of jobs. No more limping away."

"You break into my-" Eliot cast his eyes heavenward. "I'm not surprised." He pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered why he wanted to laugh.

Parker stuck her hand out. "Deal?"

Eliot eyed the hand like he would a snake lying still. It could be dangerous but if he played his cards right he wouldn't get bit. "Goes both ways. You gotta take care of yourself too. No more..." he gestured to her side, tapping gently on the ice pack bulging out from under his shirt. "You get hurt you _tell_ someone. You get in over your head, you get_ out_. I'll be there as fast as I can."

Parker just looked at him for a long minute. "You don't break into my place. I'd know if you did." She lowered her hand. "We can't have a deal if you don't have something to offer." She narrowed her eyes at him. "What'cha got? Money? Jewels?"

He didn't even have to think about it. "Sparring lessons. Whenever we have some time to kill, you and me are gonna be on those mats." Because God help whatever soul put bruises on her next. Whether it be by his hands or hers, the next person who tried would be getting bruised right back.

Parker leaned close, eyes narrowed. She seemed to be studying him. Eliot stared right back, blue eyes locked with blue, both serious. A hand came up and they shook on it, sealing the deal.

"Tomorrow?" Parker asked.

"Not with those bruises. Tuesday," he offered, squeezing her hand like an affirmative. "If we don't have a job," he added, releasing her fingers.

Parker accepted that and sat back, taking a long drink from her water bottle. She was smiling again.

Eliot made a mental note to check if anything was missing from his place when he got home.


	2. When Lines Are Drawn

**A/N****:** Figured I'd update now while I could. Enjoy.

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><p>Parker wasn't at the gym for the next couple of days, which gave Eliot a bit of piece of mind for about half a second. If she had come to the gym he'd at least have a chance of making her sit still and help her work through the stiffness she was surely feeling. But she'd decided not to show at all, so he had no idea where she was or what she was doing. For all he knew she was strapped into her harness and flinging herself off buildings for the hell of it.<p>

Considering it was Parker, it was entirely possible. He scowled at the thought.

Eliot nabbed Tank early Tuesday morning and the two of them had a light sparring round before the gym officially opened. They both preferred it that way. Sparring alone meant more concentration on the opponent. Not only that, both men could really cut lose without worrying about someone being in the crowd that could cause trouble. Eliot had to worry about foreign (and a few domestic) enemies that might have decided to crawl out of their holes. Tank liked dodging autograph seekers and people begging to be trained by him.

Eliot barely dodged a punch. Tank was a tank: tall, wide, brute strength to spare. But he was slower than Eliot, and that gave Eliot the advantage. Eliot could dart around Tank, landing blows before the other man could spot him. Of course Tank could probably crush his skull with his little finger but that's why Eliot liked fighting him. The Hitter could work on his speed with someone who could actually take the beating and give one back in turn.

Really if Eliot wanted to get faster he'd fight Parker but she wasn't advanced enough to be a challenge. However, teaching her was good too. As he taught her he'd learn how someone built like Parker would fight. Then he'd know how to take them down.

Tank was panting by the time they were done, bent double, hands on his knees. He growled at Eliot, still upright, only slightly winded.

"Damn you and your young age," he muttered, stalking over to his water and downing half of it in one gulp.

"Ain't all age. Though in your case you could use it as an excuse."

"Shaddup."

Eliot chuckled, letting his hair down. He always tied it back when he fought Tank. Losing sight of him for even a second could mean a loss for Eliot, and never ending teasing from Tank. The man was what his name claimed and a big softie, but that wouldn't stop him from verbally jabbing Eliot every chance he got. Losing to him would give him more ammunition and Eliot barely managed to keep up with the insults as it was.

"So," Tank began, sinking to the floor for a quick rest. "That girl that was in here the other day, Patty-"

"Parker," Eliot corrected automatically.

Tank waved it away. "Yeah her. She work with you doin' that stuff I don't wanna know about?"

Eliot suspected Tank knew exactly what he did, but he let him act like he had no idea. Having Tank in the dark, or at least pretending he was, allowed Eliot to act like a normal person. For once he could talk to someone who wouldn't judge or try and get something out of him. Tank was the kind of person you could go to for a favor but you practically had to choke him to get him to admit he needed help. He was a good man, the kind of man that made other people look bad by just being alive.

"Yeah." Eliot slid next to Tank. "She's part of it."

Tank nodded and managed to look thoughtful. Eliot suddenly realized he'd trimmed his beard and couldn't stop the grin. Apparently Parker had left an impression on the former body builder. Tank was a self-proclaimed ladies man, but everyone who knew him well knew his world belonged to his son, grown now and off raising his own family. Tank was due to be a grandfather in about four months.

"So you two are..." He trailed off with a significant look.

Eliot gave him a level stare in return. "We're teammates."

Tank's next look eloquently declared he didn't believe him and Eliot rolled his eyes. "Friends," he admitted. "My other teammate is into her." He hoped that would shut Tank up, but he should have known better.

"Ah, but you want-"

"No," Eliot bit out quickly.

Tank fell quiet but Eliot knew it wouldn't be the end of it. Once Tank got an idea he latched onto it like a bulldog until it completely bled dry. There would be jabs and not-so-subtle glances sent his way whenever Parker showed up from then on, he just knew it. Eliot hoped he wouldn't lay it on too thick. He'd hate to have to punch a friend.

A large hand patted his shoulder and Tank shuffled to his feet. "You're young," he said like it explained everything. He pulled Eliot up by the elbow, studying him carefully. The younger man kept his face impassive but not blank. A blank face was one of the most obvious tells, and Tank could spot the smallest of twitches a mile off. He would have made a fabulous Grifter. (Eliot almost smiled at the thought of Tank and Sophie having a Grift-off and had to wonder who would win.)

"Spencer, that woman is somethin' special," Tank declared. "If you wanna keep her at arms length, that's on you." He thumped Eliot's back one good time, nearly making Eliot stumble and moseyed off to unlock the doors.

Eliot showered and changed and wondered if the rest of the day would be like this. If so, he'd be back later that night to beat something. He wondered if Parker would tag along to make good on their deal and made a mental note to check her side before he let her do anything. It had only been a few days but pushing herself could result in a more serious injury and the last thing they needed was a hurt and cranky Parker.

"She's bad enough on a good day," Eliot muttered to himself with a smile. Parker was like a little sister. She was annoying, reckless, and loud, but she was family. She was his family and he'd protect her just like everyone else.

His mind and heart both said otherwise but he shoved the voices away and focused on getting to Nate's.

Hardison was very into Parker. Eliot didn't know how far or deep it went, but the line was there and it wasn't one Eliot was too willing to cross. Hardison was annoying and went on for too long about stuff he couldn't care less about, but he was a friend, a teammate. They weren't like brothers, not quite. They were more like close cousins, related and friendly, but distance and bickering wasn't an issue for either of them. Regardless, there were some things Eliot wouldn't do: kill innocent people, hurt animals (unless they were attacking him), and never, ever, make a move on a friend's girl. He had never had a problem stealing a date or a girlfriend before, but even trying to take a girl from a friend was something he'd vowed to never do.

Logic pointed out that by admitting he wasn't going to cross that line meant he knew the line had been drawn for a reason. Eliot was never much of a logic kind of guy. He was action, retrieval specialist, the guy that punched and kicked his way to the truth. He was the kind of guy they called when an impossible decision had to be made or when something went downhill fast.

He was also the kind of guy that got worried fast when his injured teammate's voice burst over the comms, breathlessly calling for him in a way that could only be described at desperate.

"_Eliot!_"

He paid no attention to the strange looks when he stopped short on the sidewalk and started talking to no one. "Where are you?" he demanded.

"Deli alleyway-" there was a pause and a grunt of pain that didn't belong to her. He didn't know if it made him feel better or worse. "Two blocks from Nate's!"

Eliot took off like a bullet straight from a gun, booted feet eating up the sidewalk like it was nothing. When people got in his way he simply ran in the street, outpacing cars and motorcycles in seconds. Something hot and furious boiled in his veins but he allowed cold awareness to settle in before he turned into the alley. Parker was pushing herself to her feet, fists up. Two guys circled her, one groaning on the ground.

He gave them no warning. He bypassed the one closest to him, instead diving for the one on the right, the one with a knife at his waist and a gun in his hand. Eliot hit him hard enough to knock them both to the ground, one good hit to the face enough to turn out the lights. The second wasn't necessary but Eliot hit him again anyways.

The other received a swift and powerful kick from Parker, stumbling backwards into trashcans. He scrambled upright and bolted without looking back. Eliot turned to Parker and got a swift kick to the back of his knee. His leg folded and the other two used the second he was down to start running. Apparently they weren't as stupid as they looked, but that still wasn't saying much.

Eliot got his feet back under him in time to catch Parker as she staggered.

"You okay?" He murmured. She blinked sluggishly but nodded, glancing down the alley rather than at him. "C'mon, let's get you to Nate's."

"What's going on?" Sophie demanded in their ears.

"Wait." Parker stepped away from him to the dumpster, kneeling on the filthy ground to peer behind it. "It's okay," she said. "You can come out now."

Eliot shifted just enough to see a small hand hesitantly reaching out to grip Parker's. He approached slowly as Parker stood, hand-in-hand with a little girl. Her brown hair was long and uncombed, her face streaked with dirt and tears. She shrank into Parker's side at the site of Eliot and he stopped, squatting to smile at her.

"You alright little one?" he asked softly.

She didn't answer, not that Eliot expected her to, and gripped Parker's hand tightly. Lost, Parker turned to him, clearly asking what to do. Eliot jerked his head towards Nate's building, visible from the deli. The Thief nodded and gently pulled on the girl's hand to get her to follow them. It didn't take much. Apparently wherever Parker was going, the little girl was going as well.

"Nate," Eliot said quietly into his comm. "We've got a situation here."

"For the love of God, what's going on? Is Parker alright?" Sophie all but yelled.

Eliot eyed the blonde before answering. Her side couldn't feel good after a round with three guys and she was holding her left arm awkwardly, elbow pointed away from her body. It didn't look broken but he was willing to bet a cracked bone or a deep sprain. She was turned to the little girl so he couldn't see her face, but he'd caught sight of a vivid red mark on her jaw and a split lip. He couldn't be sure but a head injury was likely as well.

"She's walking," Eliot offered. "Wake Nate, we're on our way there." He gave the girl a smile when she peeked around Parker at him. "And we've got a little company," he finished lowly when she ducked away, eyes wide and terrified.

Neither he nor Parker spoke the rest of the walk. The little girl was shaken up so badly she wasn't in any shape to talk and they didn't want to push her. By silent agreement they walked in a line, Parker in front, hand trailing behind her, still gripping the child's. Eliot stayed close, but back and off to the side, close enough to spring into action quickly, but far enough people wouldn't know immediately he was with Parker and the girl.

McRory's was thankfully empty and the elevators quick. Parker didn't need to be told and simply moved so Eliot could stand in front of the doors, his body between them and whatever could be waiting for them.

Sophie practically ambushed them, barely managing to stop when she saw the girl.

"What have we got here?" she cooed softly.

Eliot felt a little better about the situation when he realized that he wasn't the only one the child shied away from. Even Sophie, with her soft voice and kind eyes, made the frightened girl cling tighter to Parker. Nate caught his eye and nodded to the first aid kit already open and waiting on the counter. Eliot ushered Parker over, snagging the kit on the way to the couch.

"Her first," Parker insisted, feeling the small body trembling slightly beside her. She still hadn't released her hand and Parker made no move to let go.

Eliot knelt slowly before them and kept a smile on his face. He'd have to be careful not to scare her any more than she already was. He took a moist cloth from the kit and held it flat in his palm so she could see it. He waited for a second to see if she would speak before reaching for her, intending on at least clearing the dirt from her face.

"It's okay," he assured her when she tried to bury herself in Parker's side. "I'm not gonna hurt you, little one."

Parker plucked the wipe from his hand, swiping it first on her face, then on the girl's. "See? Just cleaning you up."

Confident that Parker could take care of her- she was remarkably good with children- Eliot and Nate headed into the kitchen to talk. Sophie, after seeing that only Parker was allowed to be near the child, followed, a thousand questions burning in her eyes. Eliot explained as best he could, but he didn't have much to go on either. Parker hadn't offered any information and the little girl didn't seem keen on talking.

"You thinkin' unprofessional kidnapping?" Eliot whispered.

Nate nodded gravely. "Definitely not professional. They tried to get her in broad daylight on a crowded sidewalk." He glanced at the two on the couch. "Or maybe they had her and she got away. It was a smart play, trying to vanish in the crowd like that. Parker was in the right place at the right time. That little girl got lucky."

"The poor thing," Sophie breathed. "Do we know her name?"

Eliot shook her head. "Nothing. She's stickin' to Parker right now but she ain't saying anything." His eyes narrowed at Parker wincing and trying to stretch her arm.

"Call Hardison," Nate tossed Sophie her phone. "Get him here to do the facial recognition. Maybe we'll get a hit off an Amber Alert." He turned to follow Eliot's gaze, frowning at the obvious mark on Parker's face that could only be from a fist. "Until he gets here we'll have to try and get her to talk to us. We need a name and some idea of what happened if we want to-"

"Her name's Ella," Parker announced, her eyes trained on the girl beside her. "And she's not going to talk to us." The girl- Ella- was motioning with her hands, silently communicating.

A look of understanding passed over Sophie's face, her mouth forming a little 'o' of shock. She threw the men a glance neither of them quite got and made her way to the chair opposite of Parker and Ella. Confused, Nate and Eliot could only follow.

Ella's brown eyes darted to Eliot, lingering for a brief second before she turned back to Parker. She tossed her hands up, pointed a grubby hand, palm up, at the Hitter before tapping two fingers on each hand together. Apparently it meant something to Parker because she smiled and pointed her palm at Eliot, tapped her own fingers together, and then formed a half fist, an L shape that she flashed quickly, raised her pinky, made a circle with her fingers, and finally stuck her thumb between her fingers in another odd fist.

Nate caught on quickly. "She's deaf," he said, not really a question but Parker nodded anyways.

"Yeah," she said sadly. She rotated her wrist with a wince. Eliot plopped down on the couch arm behind her, kit in his lap. "She's deaf."

"Of all the languages I know," the Hitter muttered, carefully checking Parker's arm, "that ain't one of them." He watched Ella's hands motioning to Sophie and Nate, her eyes on Parker. Parker tugged her arm out of Eliot's grip and pointed to each of them, signing their names. She smiled at Ella and pointed at her, speaking as she signed.

"You're safe here," the Thief assured the child, nothing but sincere even knowing the child couldn't hear her. Eliot couldn't see her face but knew without a doubt her eyes were soft and serious in a look that only Parker could do- understanding and compassion and marked with a promise.

Apparently it was all Ella needed. Her brown eyes welled with tears that spilled down her cheeks. She launched herself at Parker, hugging her tight around her middle. Parker winced but wound her arms around her. She threw a helpless look to Eliot, but said nothing as she held a scared little girl safe in her arms.

* * *

><p><strong>Another note:<strong> It's actually not that much of a stretch to imagine Parker knowing ASL. During season four when she tries to mime about the bugs in Nate's apartment she mouths "Evil" and actually almost does the sign for "Horse" which she considers evil. So I'm not totally crazy, right? Right?


	3. Ninja Training

**A/N:** More fluff and plot, some Eliot/Parker goodness if you squint hard enough. This story is rolling right along for now, but who knows how long that'll last. My plot bunnies have fangs I tell you. _Fangs_. Anyways, I'm updating so fast because I won't be able to for a while- gotta work and earn that moolah. Also, I wrote this while listening to The Zombie Song by Stephanie Mabey on repeat. It's awesome. Just FYI.

* * *

><p>Eliot had to wait for nearly an hour before he could treat Parker's wounds. Ella kept crying, her silent tears and shaking shoulders rattling the team as much as any sob would. Finally her tears began to dry and she slowly began to drift to sleep against Parker. Her eyes drooped and would snap back open, wide and scared, before landing on Parker, then Eliot and back to Parker. Ella would rearrange herself in the blanket Nate had draped over her, cuddling closer to Parker until eventually her eyes drooped and stayed closed.<p>

As soon as she was asleep enough for Parker to move without disturbing her, Eliot swooped in, kit in hand.

"Gimme your arm," he ordered gruffly, careful to keep his voice low. Ella couldn't hear him of course, but the vibrations from his chest would be absorbed by the couch and she could pick up on that. Eliot wasn't sure if it would wake her but he didn't want to risk it.

Parker didn't fight him as he pushed her sleeve up, gritting his teeth as more skin was exposed. Parker was naturally pale so any bruise was going to look ten times worse on her than it really was, but the fresh marks dotting her arm had to be painful. They were a kaleidoscope of purple, black, and blue, varying in size and shape but all dark and getting darker. Eliot started to re-evaluate his theory of a mild sprain and began gently running his fingers down her arm, stopping with her breath hitched, a small hiss escaping her.

"Right there?" he asked, gently prodding the same spot again. Parker nodded, sucking air through her clenched teeth.

"Anything broken?" Nate asked from the chair.

Eliot considered it, studying each bruise carefully. Nothing was swelling too bad and there weren't any abnormal dips or shapes but without an x-ray he couldn't be entirely sure. Parker flinched hard when he pressed just above her wrist, her whole body jerking instinctively away from him. Eliot froze and let her settle before carefully- like dealing with a glass bomb- thumbing the spot again.

"Ow- stop it!" Parker cried.

"Hold still."

"It hurts!"

"I'd say she cracked a small bone in her wrist," Eliot answered. His temper began to boil but he kept his hands steady as he got ready to treat Parker. "Those bruises go pretty deep, probably a good sprain there." He dug an ace wrap out of the kit. "You got a sling?"

Nate's lips thinned as he thought. "I don't think-"

"Upstairs in your sock drawer," Sophie informed him. "I'll get it."

Eliot quickly decided he didn't want to know why Sophie knew that and realized he knew anyways. He and Parker shared a look of slight disgust. While they were both okay with Sophie and Nate having a relationship, knowing that they were physical was equivalent to knowing your parents were doing the horizontal mambo. Parker wrinkled her nose at him, her thoughts the same as his. Eliot smirked lightly.

Hardison appeared in the doorway. He froze at the site of Parker.

"What happened?" he demanded, rushing forward. Eliot had to stop himself from sweeping his arm back to stop the man in his tracks.

"I'm fine," Parker said tiredly. "Eliot's patching me up."

"Yeah I see that. _Why_ is he having to patch you- oh."

Ella had shifted under the blanket, her head appearing to burrow into Parker's lap. She let out a shaky breath, her brow furrowing briefly before becoming smooth again. Parker laid her good arm across her shoulders, absently rubbing Ella's back to soothe the small noises of distress the child emitted. Eliot glanced back at Hardison, half amused, half annoyed to see him frozen in total shock.

"Somethin' wrong with your eyes Hardison?" he asked casually, winding the bandage around Parker's arm.

"Not unless you guys don't see the little girl asleep on the couch." He waited in case he actually was the only one who saw her. "Is someone gonna explain this? 'Cus I'm not sure I wanna know."

Nate rubbed his forehead and violently wished for a drink. "Check your phone, Hardison."

Eliot concentrated on Parker while Hardison finally checked his voicemails and inbox. He taped the bandage in place once he was sure it wasn't too tight. Poor circulation would only hurt her more and make the bruises darker and more painful. He told her to flex her fingers, watching the digits move with eagle eyes before he was satisfied that her arm, at least, was taken care of. Remembering her stumble in the alley and her sluggish speech, Eliot dug a pen light out of his pocket.

"Look straight ahead," he murmured, shining the light into her eyes. The pupil dilated normally, her eyes moving like they were supposed to when he asked her to follow his finger. "No concussion," he announced, grinning at they way she went cross eyed trying to see his finger when it tapped her nose.

Sophie's heels clacked down the stairs. She triumphantly held up a blue sling. "Found it!" she crowed. "You really need to clean out your drawers," she informed Nate, crossing the room to hand the sling to Eliot.

Nate huffed a breath that sounded like a laugh mixed with a sigh. "Yeah I'll get right on that. Hardison, I need you do to a search for any Ella's that have gone missing in the past two days. They need to match her description."

Hardison was already moving, glancing over his shoulder to confirm Ella's hair color. Sophie had kindly informed him once that he sucked with colors and he didn't want to get this wrong. His eyes strayed to Eliot, easing Parker's left arm into the sling. Something hot churned in his gut like it always did when he saw them together, or when Parker opted to ride home with Eliot instead of him. Or when Nate paired the Hitter and Thief. Or when Eliot looked at Parker the way Nate looked at Sophie after a drink.

"She can't hear," Parker told him, shrugging the sling into a more comfortable position on her shoulder.

"What?"

"She's deaf."

"That'll help narrow down the matches." Hardison began typing. "What color are her eyes?"

"Brown," Eliot and Parker answered together.

Hardison raised a brow but typed it in. It would take his baby a few minutes to come up with what they needed, so he pulled up a separate search, anticipating Nate's next command. He wasn't disappointed when the older man stood and made his way next him, hands in his pockets in what Hardison had come to call his "thinking pose".

"Parker stopped three guys from taking her at the deli two blocks down from here," Nate started, tone thoughtful. "The gas station across the street has cameras. Hack into those and pull up the footage from an hour ago. We need to get a good look at their faces."

Hardison didn't even give a speech about how Nate shouldn't assume he could hack into anything. It's not like he _couldn't_ hack into the gas station cameras. Besides, those men had tried to take a little girl and hurt Parker. Neither of those things were something to joke about.

"I could do that face drawing thing again," Parker offered.

"I'm about to give you somethin' for the pain. You'd be lucky to walk in a straight line, never mind draw one." He broke a pill in half. "You eat anything today?"

Hardison paused and turned to Parker as she nodded. "I thought you didn't like drugs."

Parker was eyeing the small pills Eliot was shaking into his palm but she didn't look like she was about to throw a fit. Much to everyone's surprise she accepted the water Sophie handed her and downed the pills without comment or fuss. She paused with the glass still at her mouth, glancing around at all of them. She handed the glass to Eliot, who took it silently. She blinked.

"What?"

"You just took drugs without protest." Sophie turned to Nate, almost needing to confirm what she'd just seen. "Normally you kick up a fuss about drugs."

Parker slumped against the couch with a shrug. "I trust what Eliot gives me."

Hardison had never been more grateful for a computer's notification beep in all of his life. He pulled up the search that had finished, motioning Nate over so he could see the footage better. The quality wasn't that great and Hardison didn't want to risk grains or pixels messing with any shot they might have of the would-be kidnappers' faces.

Sophie watched Parker from the corner of her eye, the rest of her attention focused on the screens. She'd heard Parker call for Eliot over the comms so she could afford to be a little distracted. She wasn't sure what Eliot had given her, but Parker looked drowsy and the Grifter wasn't sure how much of it was adrenaline fading and how much was the painkillers. She hid a smile when Eliot, rather than standing and joining the other men at the smart counter, settled on the other side of Parker, one eye on her and the other on the black and white footage playing, the minutes before he arrived revealed on the screen.

Nate watched every detail carefully, his mind already running through and discarding ideas, plans, possible motives. They really needed Ella to piece things together for them, but Parker was the only one who understood enough Sign to communicate with her. Not to mention Ella was still asleep, Parker close to dreamland herself. Nate's mind had already made the Security Blanket connection between Ella, Parker, and Eliot. Ella was asleep because she felt safe with Parker, and Parker was relaxed because she felt safe with Eliot. Parker being relaxed allowed Ella to calm and eventually drift off. Eliot didn't look happy, but he never really did. As long as he wasn't breaking something, Nate didn't care.

"There," Nate pointed. "Ella's running away from them."

Hardison slowed the footage to real time with a few taps of the keyboard, eyes never leaving the screen. He spotted Ella seconds after Nate pointed, long hair trailing after her as she ran. Three men- three very big men, he noted- followed close behind her. Ella turned her head, probably to see where the men were, and literally ran into Parker.

They all saw Parker's instant understanding. She grabbed Ella and pulled her into the alley, the camera losing site of them as they turned. Hardison pulled up another angle in time for them to see Parker hiding Ella beside the dumpster and turning to face the men. One was already close enough to land a hit and they all winced when his fist connected with Parker's face and she stumbled into the wall.

Sophie saw Eliot's hand curl into a fist on his knee, his knuckles bleaching as the fight went on and his grip got tighter.

"Parker must've called Eliot about here," Nate mused aloud, seeing her land a roundhouse kick, her mouth moving as she turned. One of the men went for Ella and Parker dove for him, her left arm receiving the kicks meant for the boxes blocking Ella from view. "In about twenty seconds he'll round the- yup here he comes."

They barely kept up with Eliot as he blurred past each camera, a shape with long hair full body tackling the man that had pulled a gun.

"Man you have _got_ to have some ninja training or something," Hardison declared. "Nobody moves that fast."

"Eliot does," Parker muttered sleepily from the couch. "He's a master ninja."

Eliot only smirked and kept quiet.

Hardison found the thought very creepy and turned back to the screens. Black and white Parker nearly collapsed into black and white Eliot's arms. Black and white Eliot held her close- too close- and kept her on her feet. Hardison jabbed the pause button a little harder than strictly necessary, backing up the footage and zooming in on the faces.

"It'll take me a bit to get names from this," he muttered, eyes boring holes in the counter's surface.

Nate's glance exchange with Sophie was missed by everyone, but Hardison's shift in body language was did not go unnoticed by Eliot. Parker fell asleep to the sound of Eliot's breathing and the quiet tapping of Hardison's keys and missed it all, slipping quickly into dreamland, Ella's head pillowed on her lap, her own head leaning dangerously close to Eliot's shoulder.

Nobody moved.

* * *

><p>Eliot wasn't sure he liked being left behind while the rest of the team went out on the hunt for the guy that kidnapped a little girl.<p>

Hardison had found Ella- full name Ella Renee Lane- and her family on the other side of Boston. Neither her father, Mark, or her mother, Ivy, answered the phone when Sophie called and then Nate got That Look and sent Hardison deep into the world wide web to see what he could find on the Lane family. It hadn't taken long for the computer to give them multiple lawsuits that Mark had filed against one Steve Lester, CEO of Lester Corp, a computer company that churned out designs that made Hardison drool.

Apparently Mark had designed a computer chip that did something important (Eliot had tuned Hardison out after he mentioned the chip wasn't anything threatening) and Lester had taken the design and claimed it as his own. The first few lawsuits had been turned down but the last one appeared to be sticking and, according to Nate's trained eye, would probably go in Mark's favor with the new evidence his lawyer had turned up.

Parker had not only rescued a little girl but found them a client as well.

Everyone knew what had happened before Nate could even speak. Lester had hired goons to take Ella, and possibly Ivy, in order to blackmail Mark into handing over the incriminating evidence that Mark had. Normally it would be Eliot's job to scope out the house, but Nate had pointed out that Ella was still a target and would be safest right where she was. Parker was in no shape to protect anyone (plus she was still asleep), so Eliot found himself alone with the sleeping girls while Sophie and Hardison went to Lester Corp.

No one knew what Nate was doing, but Eliot was willing to bet on some kind of elaborate con. Sophie was posing as Lester's new PA and Hardison the new tech guy. Nate was probably looking for the Lanes.

Ella stirred before Parker and Eliot had a moment of slight panic. Ella was still scared of anyone but Parker. What was she going to do upon waking up and discovering herself alone with a guy that hit people for a living?

Brown eyes zeroed in on him and Eliot made himself smile gently, hoping his uneasiness wasn't too obvious. Ella was only six. Eliot being anything but comfortable around her would make her nervous as well. He didn't want to wake Parker until he had to, and a scared six year old qualified as 'had to'. Fortunately Ella gave him a small smile back. It was shaky around the edges but at least she hadn't run screaming from him.

Yet.

She signed something at him and Eliot wished he'd opted to learn Sign Language rather than hitting his way through North Korea. His buddies had signed up but had he? No. He had decided to get paid and make a few enemies. And now he had a deaf six year old in his care and he couldn't speak her language.

He held up one finger and went over to the smart counter, bringing up WordPad. Simple and easy, though he could have sworn he heard Hardison scoffing at him. He shook his head to clear it and typed out what he needed to, hitting enter so it appeared on the screen.

_Parker's asleep. Do you need anything?_

Ella glanced at Parker, then back at Eliot. She stood carefully and Eliot had to stop himself from going over to help her. Ella had to do this at her own pace if he didn't want to freak her out. He was aware he looked pretty scary to people who didn't know him. And a lot who did. He absently wondered if Parker was afraid of him. She'd deemed him scary when his temper flared, but what about the rest of the time?

_Bathroom._ Ella typed, glancing shyly at him.

After a second's thought, Eliot held out a hand. He was very relieved when, after a moment of hesitation, Ella took it, lacing her small fingers through his. He led her past the kitchen and into the second bathroom Sophie had made Nate install. Nate hadn't said anything about keeping Ella downstairs, but Eliot didn't want to risk something getting broken that might have been precious or important. Any of Hardison's stuff was fair game, but Nate's was a different story.

Ella signed "Thank you" and Eliot could only smile and nod. He wanted to ask if she was hungry or thirsty but didn't know how. Ella didn't appear to know how to lip read- he'd gotten a blank look when he'd voiced the question. He needed Parker to translate (a large part of him wondered where she'd picked up Sign) but waking her didn't seem like the right thing to do. She was surely hurting and the best thing he could do was let her sleep for now. He made his way back to the counter to type.

Parker had other ideas.

"Why didn't you tell me she was up?"

Eliot shrugged. "You were asleep. Figured you needed it."

Parker held her chin, turning her head abruptly, her neck cracking one good time. She watched Eliot type, smiling when Ella made her way over, situating herself at her side. She seemed more comfortable around Eliot, which was good. She knew Eliot was supposed to be scary and all, but he wasn't a bad guy. His temper made him mean sometimes but Parker knew he would do anything for the team, for anyone who needed help really. Eliot was the kind of guy that put others before his own safety and she hated it. She hated it because a lot of times, it was her antics that made him take extra hits, extra bruises.

Ella bounced on the couch excitedly, yanking Parker from her thoughts.

"She says she wants Mac 'N Cheese," Parker informed Eliot.

Eliot took one look at the two sets of sparkling eyes that turned hopefully to him and prayed Nate had had the foresight to stock up on stuff like Mac 'N Cheese, cereal, and pudding. AKA: Parker foods. He'd bought some cereal himself the other day and stashed it in the cabinet but he was pretty sure Parker had eaten it already.

Thankfully Eliot's inspections proved fruitful. Two boxes of Kraft were discovered and he got to work. Parker sacrificed some of Hardison's orange soda to Ella, moving efficiently despite the sling keeping her left arm immobile. Much to surprise of them both, Ella enthusiastically helped Eliot with the cooking, dumping the butter into the pan, stirring the noodles. She even smiled up at him when he served up the noodles.

She turned and signed something to Parker that made her smile.

"We have to sit where she says," he was told. "It's very important."

Ella's seating arrangement had her on one side of the table, Parker on the other side directly across from her. And Eliot was told by small hands and Parker's laughing voice that he was to sit beside the blonde. And he found he couldn't say anything other than "Okay".

So Eliot sat down and ate Mac 'N Cheese, Parker on his left, and a scared but smiling little girl in front of him. The domesticity was not lost on him, but he ignored the pang in favor of scooping noodles on his fork and reminding Parker her shirt would stain if she wiped her mouth on it. Napkins were invented for a reason, he said gruffly, handing her one. And he laughed when she looked a little embarrassed. And told himself he was imagining her looking at him out of the corner of her eye.


	4. In Sickness

Eliot would have liked to say he wasn't sure how he'd gotten in this situation, but it wouldn't have been true. He knew exactly how he'd gotten in this mess and he knew nothing would drag him out of it. Well, maybe something disastrous possibly could, but he wasn't going to hope for something bad to happen so he could be more comfortable. Though he could honestly say he'd prefer a broken rib or two to this, this being Hardison storming out, Parker puking, and Nate's vase lying broken on the floor.

Like everything else confusing about his life, it had all started so normally.

Hardison had gotten in as the IT guy and gotten whatever he'd needed and planted all the bugs he could and returned to Nate's armed with a grin and his laptop. They had audio, video, blueprints, financials, everything. Thanks to the smart phones Lester Corp issued to every employee- desk phones as well as cell phones- they even had phone taps. If Lester so much as sneezed, they'd know about it.

However they weren't any closer to finding Ella's parents. While she'd jumped a mile and hid behind Eliot when Hardison came in, she was definitely calmer than when she'd first arrived. Hardison seemed to take personal offense to Ella being afraid of him and was trying to counter it by jailbreaking Netflix and streaming Disney movies. He smiled at her but still gave her a wide arc whenever he had to walk around her.

"Man, how come she likes you and not me?" He wondered aloud when Ella firmly grasped Eliot's hand and made him watch Beauty and the Beast with her. "I mean, you're a scary dude. Me? I'm all geek."

"Maybe she doesn't like geeks," Eliot groused.

"Who doesn't like geeks? It's the age of the geek, baby!"

"So you've said."

Eliot was watching Parker like a hawk. It had been almost six hours since her last dose of painkillers. They were sure to be wearing off by now but she hadn't said anything. She was sitting still, his first clue, and stiff, leaning against him and using him like a brace, his second clue. She had to be hurting again but Eliot knew she wouldn't mention it unless he forced it out of her. As straightforward as Parker liked to be, it was easier to explain string theory while juggling than to get her to admit she was hurt.

Nate seemed to be thinking along the same lines but he avoided the subject gracefully, probably waiting for Sophie to come back and act as a buffer. Or the bad guy. Nate was quick to get onto Parker for being silly but he generally sent the others to her for more serious stuff. Sophie was great at telling her what she needed to do and why. (Unknown to the Hitter, Nate was actually waiting for Eliot to say something to Parker. He'd seen how she'd taken the pills without complaint from him the first time and he knew only Eliot could get her to take them a second time. He'd explore the reasons behind that later.)

"Eliot, I'm going to need you to go check out the Lane's place. We can't reach either of the parents at work or the house and we can't wait any longer. We need to know what's going on." He slid his glance to the little girl on his couch, her face lit up in a grin as she read the subtitles to the songs. "If it _is_ a hostage situation Ella will be safest here and she'll need a few things."

Normally Eliot would have been halfway out the door already but two things stopped him. One, Ella still had his hand, gripping it tighter and throwing him a wounded look when he moved to get up. Two, Parker was definitely hurting and she needed another round of medication. The last thing she'd eaten was the Mac N Cheese they'd had about five hours ago, so she'd need to eat again or the pills would tear her stomach up and make her sick.

But Nate had a point. Eliot was the best one (besides Parker, who wasn't an option for obvious reasons) to send to check out the house. He knew Ella would probably take up residence at Nate's until everything was straightened out and it wasn't like any of them had little girl clothes lying around that she could wear. And if they did Eliot would be deeply disturbed.

Parker began to awkwardly sign to Ella with one hand. She spoke as she signed so everyone could understand. Eliot had picked up a few signs (he'd always been good with languages)- bathroom, hungry, thirsty, yes, no, thanks- because of it and watched her closely, long nimble fingers creating words, communicating in a way none of them knew how. But that was Parker, full of surprises, always unaware of how amazing she was.

"Eliot's going to go get your things but he'll be right back." She shifted her arm in her sling so more of her hand was showing. Eliot was still watching her and saw the wince she tried and failed to hide. "Do you need anything from your house?"

Ella looked at him with a grin that could melt the ice around any heart and began signing to him. Thankfully Parker, sitting as she was on his other side, was able to see and translate. He still wondered where she'd learned to sign but couldn't bring himself to ask. Parker had a lot of bad memories of her past and Eliot didn't want to bring any of them up if he didn't have to. Her teary face sprang to mind, whimpering that she wanted the fake psychic dead. He hadn't hesitated to offer. He often wondered if she really would have had him go through with it. If she'd asked, he would have, no questions.

If Parker ever found out all she had to do to get Eliot to do her bidding was work up a few tears he would be in serious trouble.

"She has a teddy bear on her bed that she sleeps with," Parker was saying. "His name is Teddy."

He felt Parker's grin and let it spread to him. "I bet he's lonely. I'd best go get him huh?" He squeezed Ella's small hand in his large one. "I'll be back soon, promise."

It took Parker signing the promise, and the truth of it echoing in Eliot's eyes- and probably the mention of a lonely Teddy- for Ella to finally release his hand. Eliot dug in the first aid kit and set two bottles on the smart counter at Hardison's elbow. The Hacker dragged his eyes away from the dancing candlestick on the screens to give him a questioning look.

"Parker needs to take these soon," Eliot explained, shrugging into his jacket. "One of the little ones and just a half of a big one. The little one is anti-inflammatory and these are real strong pain killers. They don't normally mix well but she can take 'em together if she eats first and doesn't jump around much. Hardison are you listening?"

Hardison's laptop had pinged and Eliot lost him momentarily to technology. He refrained from reaching over and slapping the laptop closed. He didn't know as much about that kind of stuff as Hardison, but he knew shutting the laptop mid search could make the search stop and they needed that information.

"Listening," Hardison muttered, distracted.

"She needs to eat first. Something kinda heavy. She'll get sick otherwise. Remember, half a big one, one little one." Eliot opened the door. "Back in a couple hours," he said into the comms so Nate, who'd ventured upstairs, would know he'd gone. He glanced over his shoulder at Parker, watching him leave, her hand in Ella's where his had been. He nodded at the pills, his meaning clear. Parker made a face. His gaze turned hard. She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.

Eliot shut the door before his laugh escaped.

* * *

><p>The Lane's held no sign of a break in, which was more bad than good. It was good because that meant the house was clean and safe to enter. It was bad because not only was there nothing there, Eliot didn't have an easy way of getting in without Parker. Shimmying up the side of a house wasn't as easy as she made it look. Eliot cursed his way inside (probably drawing the attention of the neighbors in the process) and soon found himself in an undignified heap on the floor of the master bedroom. He was very glad no one had come with him to see him trying to wriggle through a window that only opened half way.<p>

He could have sworn he heard Parker laughing at him for a second and glanced around to make sure she hadn't followed him before he touched his comm to speak.

"What's so funny?" He demanded.

"You totally fell. I know you did. Totally fell."

He bit back another curse. "Did not," he said instead, making his way down the hall with an ominous air.

Parker laughed again and he growled, snatching a backpack that could only be Ella's- unless her dad owned a pink bag covered in butterflies and glitter- putting a few changes of clothes in it. He spotted a ragged looking bear sitting proudly on one of the pillows and reached for it.

"Take your damn pills and go to sleep already," he ordered.

"I already took the drugs." Parker deemed acceptable to sing rather than speak. "How come this movie has talking kitchenware?"

"Eliot, head back when you're done there. Sophie's back, we're going to start going through what we know," Nate said in his ear.

"We have any idea where the dad is?"

"Well yeah, but no one's saying it'll be the right idea."

"Don't fall out the window and die and go splat!" Parker chirped in farewell.

He nearly did, mainly because he was laughing at how like Parker it was to simultaneously tell a person to be careful and tease them about falling into a room while slightly high on medication. He double checked Ella's bag to make sure she had her essentials (toothbrush, clothes, Teddy) before dropping it to the ground. He followed it less than gracefully, landing with a loud whump that Parker would have mocked him about mercilessly had she heard it.

Eliot wondered when he became so aware of Parker's habits, wondered it the hour it took him to cross town, through McRory's, up the stairs, and into Nate's.

The smell of sickness greeted him like a slap in the face, followed closely by Ella jumping from a stool to run at him, leaping into his arms with the grace only a child could manage. Eliot barely got his arms around her in time, shifting her so she was sitting on her hip. He handed the bag to her and glanced around for Nate. Ella squealed happily and wiggled down, running back to the counter, Teddy tucked firmly under her arm. She sat him up so he could watch Lion King with her and tuned everything else out.

"Parker?" Eliot crossed the room and knelt next to the heaving thief, taking the rubber band from his hair and tying it in her blonde mane to keep the strands from her face. He smoothed her bangs away from her forehead, pausing to check for a fever.

"Bad drugs," Parker moaned. "Never again."

Eliot whipped around to pin Hardison with steely blue eyes. Alec flinched hard enough to give Eliot a bit of satisfaction, but he still scowled at him. "Dammit Hardison I told you to make sure she ate before she took the pills!"

"I was running the search and then-"

"Something happened and you got distracted, I know, I know." Eliot had already turned back to Parker. "How many times have you hurled?"

Parker kept her head pointed down and raised two fingers. Eliot opened his mouth, but then a third finger came up and her shoulders stiffened, her neck going forward reflexively, and then Parker was getting sick all over again. Eliot wrinkled his nose against the smell and held her ponytail in place. He'd smelled worse, that was for sure, but it didn't make the smell any less pleasant.

Sophie was behind the couch, rubbing Parker's back in soothing circles, her face sympathetic. She kept her eyes elsewhere. Eliot heard humming and remembered that Sophie didn't have the strongest stomach in the world. She was probably fighting not to get sick herself and humming to cover the sounds, but she didn't want to leave Parker alone in her misery. The Grifter surprised him sometimes. She would con men out of fortunes without so much as a blink as quick as she would rub a friend's back as they got sick.

"Hey," Eliot murmured to her. "Get a rag and run it under some cold water would you?" Sophie's eyes flicked to Parker. Her head was still hanging off the couch and toward the bucket but she seemed to be done for now. "I've got her."

Sophie darted to the bathroom just as Nate came from the kitchen with a glass of something fizzing. "I made Hardison get some Ginger Ale," he said as he handed the glass to Eliot. "It always settled my stomach whenever I was sick."

When Parker didn't look up Eliot rubbed the back of her head. "Think you can manage a few sips?" Parker spat once into the bucket and groaned. Eliot sat the glass down for a second, using both hands to steady her as she sat up. He kept one hand on her shoulder to keep her from toppling over. "Here, try this." Parker pulled a face but Eliot persisted. "You're probably real dehydrated right now. At least take a drink." Parker seemed to be wavering. "C'mon now," he murmured softly. "Just one for me."

"'S fizzy," Parker slurred. But she allowed Eliot to hold the glass to her lips and took a tentative swallow, then a longer one when her stomach didn't immediately reject it. She really needed to drink more but Eliot didn't want to push it and have her just throw it back up.

"You gonna get sick again?"

Parker shook her head. "Fizzy helps. I like fizz." She looked up at Eliot, a little dazed. "Fizz is good."

Eliot stood, gentle pressure on her shoulder urging her to lay back down. He took the damp cloth from Sophie and folded it, running it on the back of her neck before draping it across her forehead. Her fever was mainly flush from throwing up, but Eliot knew from personal experience that cold water on the back of the neck always felt good after sickness.

Ella remained oblivious throughout it all. She glanced at Hardison when he sat a few stools down from her, but she didn't move, simply looked at Eliot and Parker, then turned back to the movie.

Nate sighed and stood.

"Okay," he started, hands on his hips. "We've got Steve Lester, a nasty CEO who likes to steal other people's designs and claim them as his own, burying the original creators in legal work and then buying them off after he makes millions of dollars." He turned to Sophie. "Now Sophie is posing as his PA-"

"Jennifer Young," Sophie put in, her voice laced with a New Jersey accent.

"- and managed to plant one of Hardison's bugs onto his computer. We got this from one of the files." Hardison handed his laptop over to Eliot as the screens were currently in use. "It's a video of Ivy, Ella's mother. Lester definitely has her but the problem is we don't know where. Hardison is trying to trace the location through the video." He turned to Hardison, waiting for the younger man to jump into the technical mumbo of what he was doing.

Hardison took his laptop back. "I have no idea," he said simply. "It was routed through several IP addresses before it landed in Lane and Lester's inboxes. It'll take me a while to sort through them all." He held up a hand when Eliot moved to speak. "Believe me, I know that time is short here, but I literally cannot go any faster."

"Well try," Eliot snarled. "Ella's mother is in a lot of danger and until we get this guy, so is she."

"What can we do?" Parker asked in a raspy voice.

Nate exchanged a pained look with Sophie. "Right now, nothing. Lester is too smart to buy into anything we can come up with and he could have Ivy killed before we get to her. What we need to do- what we're going to do is get in touch with Lane, find the misses and get Ella home safely." He directed the last part to the pair on the couch. "Then we're going to take every bit of evidence Sophie and Hardison dig up and plant it where Lane's smart lawyer can find it." He paused, considering. "And Eliot can hit him a few times."

"Only a few?"

"We're not trying to kill him," Sophie pointed out.

"We're not?" Eliot and Parker asked at the same time.

Hardison felt his jaw clench. "You guys have _got_ to stop doing that," he muttered.

Nate clasped his hands together in front of him. "The plan for tonight is this: Ella is safest right here, so I'm going to stay at Sophie's." Sophie seemed to light up at the idea. "Parker, you're not in any shape to move, so you're going to stay here with Ella. Eliot's going to stay too and keep an eye on both of you."

Eliot's eyes nearly went wide before he caught himself. A night alone with Parker. Not really alone he corrected himself, glancing at Ella. A night with a little girl and an injured teammate. He was be around to protect them, that's all. He'd done it before, he could do it again. Besides, it was a good plan. Ella would feel best if Parker was around. Parker was injured, and, thanks to Hardison, sick, so someone would have to be around to take care of her. And in case the kidnappers found out where Ella was and tried to grab her again. It was doubtful, but none of them wanted to take that chance. Still, Eliot felt he had to offer up a protest, if only to make things seem more normal.

"Babysitting duty," he said flatly.

"More like guard duty," Parker piped from the couch, eyes closed. "If you were my babysitter I'd make you let me braid your hair and then go steal something."

Eliot ran a hand through his hair. "You'd braid my hair?" he asked incredulously.

"Or pigtails. Lots of pigtails."

His you've-lost-your-mind look found it's way onto his face. "Pigtails, seriously?" But he couldn't stop the smile when she giggled.

Hardison cleared his throat. "Uh, Nate, man... this search could take a while. Not to mention tracking that video from the original IP address, I could bounce it off the signal from here to my place and boost the speed a bit so maybe I could, you know, hang out here too, call you if anything comes up. And help keep an eye on these two troublemakers." He tossed a grin at Parker, who cracked one eye open to look at him.

"I'm not a troublemaker, Alec," she said quietly.

"Yeah, you kinda are," Eliot muttered fondly, patting her cheek gently as much for emphasis as it was to check her temperature. Still a little warm, but improving. He pressed his fingers to her other cheek when she smiled and felt her wrist for any differences in temperature. She got warm suddenly and he knew what was coming, grabbing the bucket just as Parker threw herself onto her side and retched.

Sophie shot to her feet. "Okay, I need to leave now."

Nate began moving to the door. "Hardison, let's go."

"But-"

"If you need to bounce the signal off your place then you'll do better searching there," Sophie pointed out, inching further out the door.

"Well, yeah... but I could still-"

"Hardison." Now it was a command and Hardison found himself packing his stuff and following them out the door.

He couldn't stop himself from pausing and looking back. Ella was watching them leave, her eyes following them as they filed out. She turned to Parker, then quickly back to the movie when she saw her still getting sick. Hardison followed her gaze and locked on Eliot, feeling his spine get tense. Eliot was rubbing her back, fingers tracing up and down the curve of her spine. He was murmuring lowly in her ear, something too soft for him to catch. He held Parker's face in one hand when she finished, flashing a small smile when she insisted she was okay.

Parker gave Eliot a smile of her own as she lay back down, patting his cheek clumsily with another giggle.

Hardison shut the door so hard the shelf wobbled, setting the vase that had been sitting at the top wobbling, teetering, and then crashing to the floor where it shattered into several pieces.

Parker and Eliot stared at the vase for a long minute before looking at each other.

"Did I say something wrong again?" Parker asked miserably.

Eliot shook his head and stood to fetch the broom. The last thing they needed was Ella stepping on some broken glass and cutting herself when they were supposed to be keeping her safe. While _he_ was supposed to be keeping _both_ of them safe.

"Then what's wrong with Hardison? He's moody."

"I dunno, Parker," Eliot said, knowing exactly. He swept up the glass and didn't look at her. He picked up the bigger pieces with his hands first and attacked the smaller stuff with the broom. He kept his back to Parker and dumped all the broken bits into the trashcan, flipping the lid down with a final click.


	5. In Sleep

**A/N:** An update so fast? That's un-possible! Actually I unexpectedly got a day off work (I was _supposed_ to get time and a half to day cus it's president's day and all, but no) and managed to write a little bit, so I'm updating. Reviews are love and I love love. Thank you for everyone reading, favoriting, alerting, and reviewing this story. I can't tell you how happy it makes me.

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><p>When Sophie asked how Eliot had the time to grow his own food and he'd remarked he only slept ninety minutes a day, he hadn't been kidding. Years of training and fighting left him with bloodstained hands and nightmares that made sleep less than desirable. His body was used to next to no sleep in unstable conditions and only slightly more in his own bed. On a good day he'd maybe get two hours and wake feeling refreshed, like he was someone else who'd gotten eight hours. Getting used to sleeping like that, honing his mind and body to not need much rest came in handy on missions, and even some cons when it came right down to it.<p>

But Eliot reflected it was a good thing he didn't sleep much because sleeping on Nate's bathroom floor was next to impossible. The tiles were damn cold, the floor too hard for any position to be even close to comfortable. He'd slept in worse, but he'd slept the previous night so his body didn't feel any pressing need to recharge. He tucked Ella into Nate's bed (Sophie had thankfully changed the sheets before she left), habit making him tiptoe out of the room despite knowing she couldn't hear him.

Eliot made his way downstairs intending on helping Parker up the winding staircase and making her sleep on the bed. The couch was comfortable but as bruised as she was the bed would be better for her. She'd have more room to move around and find a position that wouldn't strain her injuries any. Her most pressing issue would be her arm. Eliot knew she usually slept on her side (when she wasn't napping like a bat from the rafters) and she wasn't able to sleep on her back for very long. Unfortunately the couch was too narrow to move much so the only option on the couch would be for her to sleep on her back.

So Eliot was going to get her into the bed with Ella, even if he had to drag Parker upstairs slung over his shoulder.

But when he got downstairs the couch was empty.

Eliot ignored all those years of training, instincts screaming at him to be quiet, and let her name burst from his lips as he pounded down the stairs. "Parker? Parker!"

Thankfully the Thief hadn't been captured by Russians or ninjas. The relief was short lived, however, when Eliot heard the tell-tale signs of someone getting sick in the bathroom. He swore violently and made his way across the apartment, stopping to pick up the bucket, gritting his teeth to avoid gagging as he emptied it, hosing it down in the sink. A worrisome thought snaked into his mind and he made himself check for blood. Parker had been throwing up on and off for several hours now. Eliot had been making her eat and drink so she was at least throwing up something, but it was bordering on dangerous.

He finished the disgusting task and washed his hands, mind running quickly away with the idea that something worse than pills on an empty stomach was going on. Hardison had given her the medication when any food had been out of her system despite his warnings so it was possible that he'd given her the wrong combination of pills as well. He hadn't been kidding when he'd said those two medicines don't normally mix. Uneasy, he made his way to the now silent bathroom.

"Parker?" Eliot called softly, tapping on the door.

Parker was laying on the floor, her body curled in on itself, knees up to her chest, back bent as she cradled her arm. Eliot brushed her bangs from her face, wiping the tears that came with sickness away with his thumb. The flush on her face wasn't from fever but that didn't make the situation any less unpleasant. The lack of fever meant her body wasn't trying to burn off whatever was in her system. It could mean that there wasn't enough left to actually fight off, that Parker had thrown everything up.

Or it could mean that her body was refusing to fight it anymore.

"Here, drink this."

It chilled Eliot to the bone when Parker, who could hang from buildings by her fingertips, struggled to sit up off the floor. She collapsed back onto the cool tiles with a moan. "I can't sit up," she said weakly.

Eliot gently gathered her in his arms, one arm winding around her shoulders, the other around her waist. He maneuvered her head until it was resting against his shoulder rather than lolling around. Parker turned until her nose was brushing his neck, her body going limp against him. She parted her lips for the much needed water. The cool settled her stomach somewhat and eased the scratch of her throat.

The wall wasn't much more comfortable than the floor, but Eliot leaned against it anyways, Parker now in his lap. He didn't want to move her too far from the bathroom in case she got sick again, but he knew they couldn't stay on the floor all night- it might make Parker worse. Her skin felt clammy and cool but he didn't know how much of it was her cooling down from the bout of sickness and how much was the cold of the tiles seeping into her skin.

"You're warm," she murmured into his chest, nuzzling him.

Eliot felt his arms tightening protectively around the woman he held as he looked down, nothing but blonde hair filling his vision. She smelled like strawberries and he wondered if it was her shampoo or just the scent of Parker.

"You'd be more comfortable in bed," Eliot told her. He found himself speaking in a near whisper, his voice gravelly and gentle, the rumble through his chest vibrating in her ear.

Parker shook her head, ponytail swishing against his chest. She snuggled closer, ignoring the way her arm twinged as she pressed tighter against Eliot. "I like it here," she said simply. She wrapped her uninjured arm around him and gave him a small squeeze. "Feels like everything's okay."

"What does?"

"Being in your arms," she said in a small voice. "I'm safe with you. I know it."

Eliot thought his heart would stop.

He'd never understand her, not completely. She dangled in midair with nothing more than a wire to keep her safe but she was afraid of horses. She was brutally honest and had a big heart. And she felt safe in the arms of a man who could kill people with his bare hands, curling against him like a puppy seeking warmth, smiling contentedly into his chest.

"Parker-"

She looked up at him suddenly, blue eyes wide and pleading. "Don't leave," she begged. "Stay with me."

Eliot swallowed his words with a kiss pressed to her hair. "I ain't goin' anywhere," he assured her. "Not ever."

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><p>Nate and Sophie came back early the next day. It had been a good night at Sophie's with dinner and an awful movie that they laughed at. She picked through the acting with a fine toothed comb, lamenting on how she could have played every part so much better. They'd called Hardison to see if he had anything, called every number they had for Mark Lane again, and finally went to bed where they lay awake for an hour and discussed the plan for Steve Lester.<p>

Lane's lawyer had also been trying to get in touch with him, messages on his phone slowly becoming frantic. The court date was in two days and Lane _had_ to be there. So Nate mentally moved up the plans. They had to find Ivy and Mark today, or get Lester to confess to not only stealing the chip but kidnapping as well, if there was any hope for justice. Plus he'd promised Eliot a hit or three. He wondered how many hits would be for Ella's family and how many for Parker, miserable and hurting.

Sophie stopped dead in the doorway with a little gasp and a big grin, keys dangling from her hand. "Oh my," she whispered.

Very few things surprised Nate any more. Years of being in the game after years of insurance and a marriage meant he'd gotten as many shocks as he possibly could. His team often surprised him with their willingness to go the extra mile to help good people in bad situations, their fierce loyalty to him and each other as much of a surprise to him as it was to them. He expected every curveball, planned for it, and planned for plans gone wrong. It was his job to be aware of every possible scenario and plan for the impossible ones.

But the sight before him gave him pause, his mind blank because he'd expected it but expecting and seeing are two completely different things.

There was a pallet several inches thick of blankets and pillows ontop of the couch cushions, which had been pulled from their rightful places and tossed onto the floor in a line. Parker was slumbering peacefully on top of it all, a pillow under her head, a blanket bunched up around her middle. Her left arm was still in the sling, hanging across her middle. She was sprawled on her right side, her right arm dangling off the makeshift bed, soft wheezing noises escaping her nose as she slept.

Eliot was stretched out on the floor beside her. There was no blanket or cushion between him and the floor, but he appeared to be sleeping anyways, head pillowed on his left arm, his right flung over his middle. His hair had come loose from the tie at some point, the strands fanning out across his arm, a few pieces sliding across his face. He was snoring lightly, his hair weaving backward and forward with each breath huffed from his mouth.

Their hands had met in the middle, grasping, fingers tangling with each other until it was unclear where Parker ended and Eliot began. Despite the space between them, Parker being up higher on her mountain of cushions and blankets, both their bodies were curled in sync- one curing out where the other curled in. Both faces were peaceful, no sign of nightmares or tension, not even a frown. In fact, a small smile could be seen on her, his lips twitching like he was fighting to keep his smirk.

They were both utterly at ease.

Nate gently tugged on Sophie's hand. "Let's go grab some breakfast," he suggested, whispering so lightly he was barely heard. But Sophie knew him well and allowed herself to be led back out the door, casting on last look at the two people inside, her own smile big and bright. Nate echoed it knowingly, mind churning, heart happy.

Eliot watched them leave, head raised slightly to see over Parker. She shifted, muttering in her sleep, fingers tightening around his, tugging his hand closer. She sighed, stilling when he carefully, gently, ran his free hand through her hair. He lay there for another hour, hand still tangled in hers, and watched her. Every shift, every sigh, every whimper made his heart hammer and his gut clench. He cursed himself profoundly because he knew but couldn't bring himself to say.

He wasn't about to fall. Eliot acknowledge that. He wasn't standing on the edge of it all, looking down and the sea of uncertainty as it churned. He was already in the sea, swimming desperately for land as he tried to catch his breath. The falling had been done and Eliot was left drowning before he'd even been aware. How like her to sneak up on him and push him off the edge.

"Eliot," she sighed, her voice raspy with sleep, eyes still heavy. "You stayed."

"Told you I would," he reminded her softly.

"You always keep your promises," she remembered.

Eliot nodded. "That's right," he whispered sadly, tracing her healing lip with a thumb. "I always do."

Neither was sure if her smile was from his kept promise or the way his lips had pressed gently against her forehead, lingering as she drifted back into sleep, but she smiled all the same and Eliot felt himself drown.

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><p>Across town, as light began to filter from the sky and chased away the shadows of the night, a man began to cry. He felt lost, unsure of what to do or where to go. His wife had been taken for the evidence that would save him financially and keep a powerful man from hurting anyone else again. His lawyer, a young man fresh out of law school, was smart and able to do what the other lawyers could not. He'd promised to take down the man who'd hurt so many.<p>

But now it was his wife who was hurting.

Mark Lane bit back a sob at the thought of what they could be doing to her. The video had shown her simply tied up and drugged into a slumber, but that had been two days ago. Today was a whole new day, and it was a deadline. Lane had to either drop the case and turn over any evidence or watch his wife be killed. The voice on the video had said they had Ella as well but they couldn't offer proof.

Lane prayed to God that they didn't have his little girl too. The kidnappers would give out harsh commands that she wouldn't be able to hear and she could be hit or hurt or something else oh god oh god oh god-

Lane stumbled, fell to the damp sidewalk, tears in his eyes. He'd just wanted the credit for the chip, the design for a new video software that could help the FBI with facial recognition. Faster results on less clear pictures, more bad guys caught and put behind bars. Now Lane knew. The bad guys weren't the ones who hid in the shadows, they were the ones who sat on high, smiling at cameras and hiding behind their money.

He held no illusions. He knew that turning over the evidence would sign his own death warrant. Whoever he handed the case full of files to- because Lester wouldn't dare do the dirty work on his own- would gun him down. They might let Ivy go, they might not. And Ella, all alone in the world. Lane didn't know where she was, if she was safe. If Lester had her, she would be killed along with them. But if he went to the police, they'd know. They'd been following him for days, watching him.

Mark Lane was a simple man who was in over his head. He needed help and he needed it fast, but he had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Who could possibly help him with this?

He stood on the bridge, watching the waters churn as the sun turned the sky pink. Would it be easier if he jumped? Just end it all right now. With his death the case would probably close. Ivy would be released. Ella would be safe. That's all he wanted. He didn't care about credit or money or name rights- none of it mattered. His family was in danger and he could do something to fix it.

With a shaky breath Lane climbed onto the railing.

"Hey, woah, wait!" A voice called, someone appearing from nowhere, startling Mark and nearly making him fall. A hand shot out, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and hauled him back to the safety of solid ground.

"Leave me alone!"

"Man, what in the hell- wait, you're Mark Lane, right?"

Mark blinked, looked up. Could this be one of Lester's men? He didn't look like any of the others. Tall, kind of skinny for a goon. He had a few muscles but his hands were soft. He had a laptop case resting on his hip, the strap slung across his body. He was young and didn't appear to be carrying any weapons. And he looked happy to see Mark, a grin working its way onto his face.

"Y- yeah." Mark backed away a few steps. "Who... who are you? How do you know me?"

"I'm someone who can help," the young man assured him. "I'm not with Lester-"

"Then how would you know to tell me that?" Mark demanded, voice shrill. "Where's Ivy- what have you done to my family?"

He spread his hands, kept his eyes on Mark. "Look, I'm not armed. I'm with some people- I have a team. We help people like you, it's what we do." He smiled at Mark. "I can take you to see your daughter."

"Ella?" Mark felt something close to hope start to crash through him. "Ella's safe?"

"She's fine, watching Disney movies, chilling. Come with me and you can see her, okay?"

Mark fell into step beside him, hope overriding caution. "Who are you?" he asked finally.

A smile. "Name's Alec Hardison. I'm gonna take you to see a man named Nate Ford, and we're gonna get you the leverage you need to get your family home safe. I promise."


	6. Truth

**A/N:** This is going to be one of the shortest chapters, but it's probably the most important. And the most complicated. It was certainly one of the hardest to write.

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><p>"The truth that makes men free is for the most part the truth which men prefer not to hear."-Herbert Sebastien Agar<p>

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><p>There were many different levels of pissed off Eliot. There was the low level, practically a default setting for when Hardison carried on and on about something, or when Parker goes off on her own and almost ruins a con to save a life. There was a medium level usually reserved for nasty people when he fought. He tried to keep his cool when fighting but sometimes they made him so <em>damn mad<em>, sometimes they were bad enough to warrant anger and his temper got the better of him. Then there was the high level, the kind of furious Eliot rarely ever got- red vision, body acting on reflex, dangerous kind of mad that made him black out and wake up with blood on his hands.

Eliot was past pissed and working up to furious. He didn't know what made him angry exactly (because it could be a number of things really) and being unsure of exactly _why_ he was angry made him that much more, as Parker would put it, grouchy.

The only reason Eliot was still in medium anger was that Ella was clinging happily to her father in the middle of Nate's apartment, signing away at her father about Parker and Mark was crying he was so happy to see his daughter safe and Parker was just smiling away. At him briefly, but then her grin turned to Hardison and any hope Eliot had of calming down flew out the window.

Parker smiling at Hardison like he was some kind of fucking hero for finding Mark wasn't improving his mood in the slightest. Hardison had done his damn job and he was getting all kinds of praise like it was a big deal. Eliot was very sure if he'd waltzed in with Mark in tow he wouldn't get so much as a 'good job' from anyone. Hardison? Throw the man a damn parade.

Eliot knew it was his anger making him think that way but if he didn't get mad at Hardison for something, he'd kill him. As it was, the Hitter was glaring at the Hacker in a way that made the hair on Alec's arms stand up. No one else had seemed to notice, but Hardison knew Eliot was going to explode soon if he didn't take care of whatever he'd done wrong this time. The problem was he had no idea what he'd done. He could think of a few things _Eliot_ had done to make _him_ mad, each of them centered around a blonde woman and making his stomach clench and chest ache, but that was something else entirely.

Wasn't it?

Nate told them both with his eyes that they'd better take whatever was going on into the hallway so Ella and Mark could have their moment in peace. They both stood, Eliot dropping his earbud on the counter on the way out, ignoring the burn of Parker's stare on his back.

The door closed behind them, plunging them into the loudest kind of silence. Eliot didn't look at him.

"How many pills did you give Parker yesterday?" His voice was so calm Hardison shivered.

"As many as you told me-"

"Hardison." Eliot's voice cracked out like a whip, fast and dangerous. "How many pills." He wasn't even asking anymore. He was demanding.

Figuring his life was depending on the answer, Hardison cast his mind back to yesterday. Back to Eliot and Parker. Back to Parker being sick and hurt. Back to Eliot (why Eliot? Always Eliot) taking care of her, holding her hair, touching her face, smiling at her with that little grin he had that made other women go weak at the knees. Parker smiling back at Eliot, trusting Eliot. Parker never smiled at him like that, never trusted him like that, never looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

Hardison forced his mind back to the topic at hand. But the topic was Parker and Parker and feelings went hand in hand. Hardison wasn't stupid. He knew Eliot was falling for Parker. He knew that neither of them were aware of it happening, but Hardison watched them, and he knew. He knew, probably better than either of them, what would happen once they realized. One or both of them would push the other away and it would hurt not only Eliot and/or Parker, but the team as well, their family dynamic shattering like glass.

Eliot would push Parker away to keep her safe, but Parker would push Eliot away because it was all she knew how to do. Hardison knew that.

And he knew what it was like to fall uncertainly. He and Eliot had fallen for the same woman. But that woman wasn't a thing, not something they could argue or fight over or win. Parker was Parker and all that entailed. Hardison got jealous and stupid whenever Eliot was around to take care of Parker and he wasn't or didn't know how, but he couldn't help that any more than he could help loving her.

"Two big ones and three small ones."

Furious blue eyes, eyes that could make men pee themselves, turned to him. Fists clenched, teeth grinding, Eliot hissed at him, trying not to yell. "I told you twice Hardison. Twice. You didn't listen to me and Parker was so sick she damn near passed out." Pain in his palms and Eliot releases his fists to jam his hands in his pockets. "I very nearly carted her to a hospital to have her stomach pumped."

Something very cold settled in Hardison's stomach. "Because she didn't eat?" he asked weakly, the breath gone from his lungs.

"Because you gave her over three times the dose she was supposed to have," Eliot growled. "On an empty stomach."

Parker could have died had she been given any more, but Eliot didn't say that. He wanted so badly to condemn Hardison for it, and probably wouldn't be blamed if he did, but he wasn't going to. Because if he blamed Hardison, he'd have to blame him for being human and that would make him a hypocrite. Eliot wasn't stupid. He knew jealousy when he saw it, knew what it could do to people. What it could make people do. The only thing he couldn't figure out is _why_ Hardison was jealous. Parker was... (his teammate, friend, sister, family, all those labels his heart scoffed at)-

Parker was Parker.

And Eliot was Eliot. And Eliot was mad.

"You didn't listen to me because you were too busy between your damn computer and your-" Eliot stopped. Swallowed the words with a bitter taste.

"My what, huh Eliot?" Hardison took a small step forward. "Yeah, feelings. I got them and so do you. At least I can admit it. But you? You curl yourself up in a damn ball made of spikes and shove them away like they're nothing."

"It ain't nothing," Eliot roared. "It's-" (confusing, wrong, wonderful, shameful) "-dangerous. Do you have _any idea_ how dangerous it is for me? How dangerous it is for any of us? You damn near killed Parker because you couldn't keep your fucking head straight!"

It was the truth. That simple fact speared Hardison like ice through his heart- quick, painful for a minute, but it melted fast and left him with a gaping hole. He stepped back to examine the hole with his fucking straight head. Felt something fall into place. His heart squeezed once, not painfully but finally, the end of a book meant to be read only once, closing firmly.

"What are we going to do about this?" Hardison asked.

They both knew what _this_ was, what it could be if they let it, what it could turn into. But they also knew that, ultimately, it wasn't them that made the decision. Even Parker couldn't settle this herself even if she knew what was going on. The saying, old and clichéd, rang true. The heart wants what the heart wants. No one could just decide to love someone or turn off love. There was no switch to flip, no button to push. It just happened, no warnings, no explanations, just sudden understanding.

"We do what we always do," Eliot answered, voice low. "We do the job. We protect people who can't protect themselves." He studied the other man before him. "And we just let it happen."

Hardison dropped his gaze first.

"How can you-" he paused to collect his thoughts, unsure of himself. "I don't think I can just sit back and be happy- no I _know_ I wouldn't be happy." Glaringly clear and brutal, the truth stared him down. "Not even if she was."

Humanity asserted itself again in uncertainly, honesty, and fear.

Eliot couldn't bring himself to assure Hardison it wouldn't, couldn't, happen because he didn't know and couldn't make his mouth form the lie they both wanted to hear. So he went for the honest brutal truth and hated himself for being able to voice it. Hated himself even more for knowing it was true. Hated himself the most because it left him with no way out, everything he'd been trying to shove aside or away now here and real and he wasn't the only one who knew.

"Then it ain't real," he said quietly. "If her happiness doesn't come first, it ain't real." He waited until Hardison met his gaze. "You know that."

And he did.

"Could you?" Hardison asked, needing to know. "Could you be happy for her?"

He didn't even have to think about it. The answer was past his lips, in the air before his brain could even register the words. Gut reaction and truth breaking free from any barrier there might have been or would be, lifting a weight from Eliot's shoulders as it settled a new one on his chest.

"Yes." His gaze was solemn, sad. "If she was happy, I'd be there for her." Something inside him cracked, walls starting to crumble. "I will always be there for her." _To catch her every time she jumps._

Hardison believed him because it was the truth.

It didn't make it hurt any less.

Because the man standing before him was the best kind of man. The kind of man that would hold a woman as quickly as he would hurt an enemy. The kind of man that would smile when he was hurting, who said the truth when it was right and lied when it wasn't. The kind of man that could comfort as easily as maim. Eliot was the man that would put her ahead of himself, of everyone, for as long as he lived. The kind of man that could look at what needs to be done and do it, the consequences heavy but able to be bared.

And Hardison, quite simply, wasn't.

Defeat is a long, hard road to travel, but once defeat is admitted, recovery can begin. There would be pain to be had, deep potholes in the road, but eventually everything would smooth out again, more than one road available to those who'd traveled well. Hardison climbed his way out of the first pothole to find there were less than there had been before. The road ahead of him was slowly becoming smooth again, honesty paving over the holes, repairing the hurt.

The hurt would still be there, but it could be filled. And eventually it would fade without a scar.

Hardison turned back to Eliot almost as soon as he'd spun to go back inside, a complete circle turned in the hallway.

"We good?" he asked.

"Always, man."

Everything out in the open, two men aware, two hearts beating separately, one woman unknowingly the cause. One soul falling deeper as one began the long climb out. Two minds, one fighting against the falling soul, one reeling with truth. Two _people_ who knew what needed to be done, who realized separate truths about the same thing.

They shouldn't be so relieved. Eliot falling hard and Hardison picking himself up. But the truth had shaken that final demon off their backs and they walked back into the apartment together, minds clear, hearts free.

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><p>"Truth resides in every human heart, and one has to search for it there, and to be guided by truth as one sees it."- Gandhi<p>

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><p>"Truth and love are supposed to go hand in hand but far too many people would rather love the lie than hear the truth. That is why truth is hard to find and love is extinct."- Me<p>

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><p><strong>AN:** Hope I did this justice. It was so much more epic in my head.


	7. Sounds

**A/N:** Wrapping things up now folks- just one more chapter to go. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed! The response for the last chapter made me grin until my cheeks hurt :D But I know Eliot's been wondering about it and figured some of you were too, so Parker and ASL are (briefly) explained. Enjoy!

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><p>Parker had not liked the idea of everyone leaving her alone while they all went to deal with Steve Lester. Never mind the fact that she was injured recovering from a near overdose/ couldn't use her left arm- she wanted to go and help and pitched a Parker fit when told she couldn't. The team understood, because they understood Parker better than they all realized, but it didn't change the fact that there was literally nothing she could do that wouldn't hurt her or blow the con. But she still argued because she was Parker and she wanted to help Ella, to do the right thing. It took the powers of Eliot and Sophie combined to get her to agree to stay at Nate's.

Eliot also had to threaten to give her medicine that would make her sleep until they got back but thankfully it didn't have to come to that. A bribe of him cooking her dinner worked just fine.

He found her lounging on the roof after the plans were made, Hardison running the last bit of the search for Ivy. She was stretched out on the ledge like a cat basking in the sun, one leg dangling, toes pointed to the street below. Her eyes were closed and at first glance Eliot thought she was just resting, relaxing a bit before she went back inside to Ella and her endless bouncing around (Nate had given her candy and the resulting sugar high rivaled Parker on chocolate), but as he got closer he could see the furrow between her brows, the way her eyelids twitched restlessly.

Parker knew he was there but didn't acknowledge him with even a glance, her eyes still closed.

"What are you doin'?" he finally asked, uneasy at her being still for almost a full minute.

Blue eyes finally opened to regard an equally blue sky tinted with white clouds, the edges pink as the sun finished rising. Questioning and awed her eyes turned to him. "Listening," she replied.

"To what?"

"Sound," Parker said simply. "All of the sound. The cars as they go by, voices, people walk past, shoes scraping the sidewalk..." She sat up and patted the concrete beside her. "Come listen."

He did, sitting beside her, dangling both his legs off the edge like he had hundreds of times before. Whether it be after a con or before dinner he would always find her on the highest point she could get to, watching the city as it moved. Now she had her eyes closed but she was still aware, listening to everything as it happened. Eliot followed her example, curious about what had gotten her in such a contemplative mood that bordered on philosophical.

It sounded like any other day to him- cars honking angrily, a siren wailing as it passed by McRory's, tires squealing as someone tried to stop or took a corner too sharply. But that was just it; they could _hear_ it like it was any other day. The wind carried voices up to them, people on the sidewalk unaware of two people on the roof, sitting on the edge with eyes shut and ears open. Eliot caught a few things in the jumble of voices, the general roar of the city too loud to hear much else.

"-call him again but-"

"-could go to that new place-"

"-be home soon-"

"-taking her to school-"

"-don't care what she said, he told me-"

"-some drinks maybe-"

"-too damn early for this-"

"-someone on the roof?"

They exchanged amused glances and peered down at the curious woman standing below them, neck craned, hand shielding her eyes from the sun as she studied them. Parker waved at her with a wide grin, oblivious to how she must look to the stranger, long hair billowing in the wind, perched happily on the very edge of a building. Eliot shook his head with a chuckle and dragged them both back from prying eyes. Parker pouted but allowed herself to be tugged to her feet, level with Eliot, her head resting on his shoulder as she watched the city wake.

She still had a far off look in her eyes but didn't look like she was going to do anything crazy soon. Eliot was just glad she wasn't going to try and launch off the building in her condition. He checked for her rigging in case she was just waiting for him to leave because really he never knew with Parker. Educated guesses were the best he could do and she loved proving him wrong.

"Can you imagine not being able to hear even the loudest sounds?" she whispered sadly.

He couldn't, not really. He'd been partially deaf in one ear for the better part of a month after an explosion had damaged his ear drum, but it had been years ago, before he met everyone, and it wasn't the same. He'd been hell to be around that month, growling at everyone, off balance and tense because one of his senses wasn't one hundred percent. There had been a few doctors visits and talk of surgery but it healed on its own and Eliot got back to doing what he did. His ear was still prone to water damage if he wasn't careful and he'd noticed himself keeping people on his left to hear better whenever he had a headache. The difference wasn't too terribly noticeable, but definitely there. Later in life he'd probably need some repairs made.

Losing hearing in one ear was one thing. Not having it at all was something else entirely.

"Ella seems to do just fine," he pointed out, knowing where she was going and hoping to soothe the distress in her voice.

Parker considered the buildings in the distance, brow still furrowed. "She wasn't born deaf," she told him. "She told me she remembers some sounds but she got sick when she was little and it took her hearing away."

Eliot took that in. He'd assumed Ella had been born deaf, that she didn't know what she was missing. But she'd been able to hear before. He couldn't even try to fathom how it must have felt for her to be growing up, learning to process the world and everything in it only to have it suddenly fall silent around you. To know your mother's voice, to hear your father's car in the driveway as he came home from work, only to never be able to hear them again?

"I have do what I do silently, but I use my ears all the time," Parker confided, her voice shaking. "I_ have _to listen to the safe to hear the tumblers click, or make sure there are no guards. I wouldn't even be able to hear you being all growly over the comms." She looked horrified. "I couldn't be on this team- I couldn't even be a thief! I'd be nothing!"

"You could never be nothing," Eliot assured her. "We'd find something for you to do for the team. We wouldn't kick you off just cause you lost your hearing."

"You wouldn't?" Shocked at the denial she snapped her head off his shoulder and turned to him, eyes wide. "But I'd be useless."

Realizing she was genuinely upset at the thought, Eliot cupped her face in his hands, locking eyes with her so she could see truth. "Parker we are your _family_. Every last one of us cares about you. If you all of a sudden went deaf or blind or lost an arm or somethin', we'd be there for you." He tucked her long hair behind her ear as the wind whipped around them. "We'd be with you every step of the way until you were so sick of us you started taking care of yourself and we'd _still_ come by to check on you."

He let her absorb the words before he wrapped her in a loose hug, mindful of her arm, resting his head against her hair, eyes closed as that scent of strawberries surrounded him again.

"I already told you I ain't ever gonna leave you. Nate, Sophie, Hardison- they wouldn't leave you either. Not ever."

Her right arm went around his middle, her head against his chest as she spoke, voice small. "You're not the first person to promise me that."

He silently cursed every person who'd ever hurt her, wondering briefly if he should be cursing himself as well. "But I'll be the first to keep it." When she looked up at him he smiled. "I mean it Parker. You're stuck with me- with all of us."

Parker had a gaze that could pierce your very soul and she turned it on him then, eyes sharp and hopeful, flickering between his. Eliot thumbed her lip, the skin almost healed now, and held her gaze, willing her to believe him.

He couldn't ever leave Parker- none of them could. The future wasn't guaranteed and they all knew that, but the promise had been made long ago. They'd all make it back from jobs when they could. And when they couldn't, they'd let themselves be rescued. It may not have been made out loud, but it had been made all the same and every one of them kept it whether they knew it or not.

Parker must have realized that because she smiled at him like only she could, arm tightening around him, head burrowing back into his chest. Eliot kept an arm around her waist, smiling to himself at the sight of her grin. She tried to hide the watery sniffle and Eliot pretended not to notice and simply ran his hand through her hair.

"Liam," she said suddenly.

He blinked down at her. "Huh?"

"Liam Harvey was who taught me Sign Language." She poked her chin into his collar bone to look at him. "You've been wondering but didn't ask so I thought I'd tell you. It was Liam."

It was scary how perceptive Parker could be when she tried. Like a child who wasn't sure exactly how the world worked but knew the truth about things that made adults scratch their heads. She could be naive to the point that they all wondered exactly how she had made it this far without them, but she could just as easily shock them with the knowledge none of them knew she had. Like drawing a face she'd only seen for a second or signing to a little girl.

"We were in a few foster homes together," she continued, face tilted to him but eyes lost in the past. "He wasn't completely deaf with hearing aids but some homes couldn't afford them or just didn't pay so he Signed a lot and I learned." Something dark swirled in her eyes and she looked away. "He taught me a lot about myself. Made me feel like I was someone. Someone real. Not just another face without a name or paycheck to cash."

Eliot wanted to ask more but didn't want to push. "Yeah?" he said instead. "Sounds like he was a good friend."

Parker nodded against him, eyes returning to his. She wasn't ready to tell him everything but she knew she would eventually. Eliot was good to listen and not judge and she was getting better at knowing when he was angry at circumstances and not her. But this was what Sophie would call a good moment. She didn't want to taint it by telling him about the wandering hands of some of the men, the smacks from the women, the kids with their cruel words.

It had been Liam, sweet Liam, who'd showed her she didn't have to be ashamed of her body, that there was nothing wrong with her. He'd taught her Sign and laughed with her and taught her to joke and kept her from jumping off the roof without a line. He'd shown her the best hiding spots and watched Jurassic Park with her and stole some coloring pencils for her on Christmas. They'd been separated, as kids often were in the foster system, but she'd never forgotten him. She liked to think he remembered her too.

Eliot could see the history in her eyes. He felt the questions burning on his tongue but he pushed them away and just held her because he knew she wasn't ready to tell him. But when she was ready, when she wanted to let him in he'd be there, whether to listen or just hold her on a roof high above everyone else.

"We're leaving in a bit to take care of Lester finally," he told her. "You should have heard the plan. I get to hit him twice." _Once for Ella and once for you._

"I'll come down in a little while. Stay with me until you go?"

He didn't answer with words, but Parker knew he wouldn't. The light kiss against her forehead and the arms locked around her were answer enough. Parker closed her eyes to listen to sound again, smiling when the strongest sound, the best sound, was a steady thumping against her ear. It gave her courage to speak one more time, the last thing weighing on her mind.

"Everyone caring about me, that's love right?"

"That's right."

Parker felt oddly anxious. "Sophie says there are different kinds of love." She glanced at him through her lashes. "Different ways different people can love."

Eliot wasn't sure where she was going with this. Had it been anyone else he would have thought it a trap, but Parker asked if she didn't know something and he always answered her when she asked him. Slightly uneasy, Eliot turned his gaze to the woman in his arms, fiercely glad he'd turned off his comm and that Parker wasn't even wearing hers. Hardison seemed more at ease after the showdown in the hallway but Eliot didn't want to grind salt into the wound, not intentionally or by accident.

"Yeah that's true." He thought of Ella and Mark. "Like how Ella loves her daddy. That's how a family loves."

Parker nodded. The kind of love she'd never known until she'd met the team and became part of something great, something big and wonderful. She loved them, each and every one. But love can be different for different people, like Sophie and Nate. They loved the team but the love for each other was different than the love they felt for her or Hardison or Eliot. Parker loved money and jewels but they couldn't love her back and it had taken this team to make her realize what she'd been missing couldn't be stolen.

"You love me differently," she said matter-of-factly.

His heart began to race and she tightened her hold on him but he didn't push her away.

"Hardison didn't take out his comm earlier did he?" he asked softly.

Parker shook her head. "Uh-uh." She smiled up at him. "I thought you were going to hit him."

He'd wanted to, but wanting to hit Hardison was nothing new. It was the fact that he _hadn't_, that he'd kept control and settled with his words not his fists that mattered. The fine line of control Eliot often toed tended to blur sometimes, but control was something he prided himself in. It flew out the window sometimes (Parker crying, wanting someone dead and he was willing) but he could always reel it back in, lock away the darkness in him.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop on people's conversations," he whispered.

"You were talking about me," she pointed out. "Makes it my conversation too."

Sometimes it was hard to argue with her logic.

"It's okay," she whispered, her voice as low as his. "I love you differently too." Her hand in his hair, eyes honest. "Guess there is something wrong with me."

Eliot felt a smile on his lips and wished to feel something else on them, leaning forward without conscious thought. "Guess so," he breathed.

"Or maybe there's something wrong with you." He chuckled and she wound her arm around his neck, pulling him close to her. "You should kiss me now," she said even as she closed the gap herself.

With the city alive around them, people talking and walking, cars puttering by, the rattle of gates as stores began to open, the workers heading in for another day's pay, Eliot broke his control for a moment and kissed Parker gently on the mouth, his darkness chased away by the blinding light she gave. He smiled at her pout when he pulled away, his hand covering hers where it stroked his cheek, eyes awed.

"Darlin' the only thing wrong with you is that you are exactly right for me," he told her, proving it by kissing her again. And again.

And again.

And again.

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><p><strong>AN:** Smoochy smoochy. :D


	8. Living

**A/N:** This be it folks. Last chapter right here. Thank you for everyone who's favorited, alerted, and reviewed and just generally made me feel like I was writing something worthwhile. Special thank yous to those who sent me messages- you kept me writing really fast! I still can't believe I wrote this in a week and a half. Hopefully there will be more Leverage fics and Eliot/Parker goodness soon. I have to hunt my plot bunnies down again. But here's the wrap-up chapter! Enjoy!

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><p>Eliot liked the new way a job ended. Before the world had changed they used to all get together for a drink, survey wounds (usually his), razz each other about something that had or hadn't happened, and go their separate ways for a good night's rest before the next con- whether it be something Nate had planned or something that just fell into their laps.<p>

Ella had fallen into their laps and quite firmly into Parker's heart. After Hardison got Mark's chip and Eliot had delivered his two promised punches to Lester's face and left him for Detective Bananno to find, Ella found herself parked in her mothers lap in McRory's, one hand gripping her father, the other signing to Parker. He caught his name sign- an E in a punching motion- and wondered just how perceptive she could possibly be. Perceptive enough, apparently. Parker looked at him, a shy glance with a hint of mischief and pride, then smiled and nodded.

Nate caught the exchange and gave him a long stare but said nothing. Eliot stared right back, making sure his gaze was hard. He knew what Nate was trying to say. He was just glad the 'you'd better not hurt her or they'll find your body in itty bitty pieces at the bottom of the river' speech could be given with one look. And his answer, 'don't even think about giving me that speech' ran into the 'I already know, don't insult me by thinking I don't'. Nate looked satisfied and turned back to his drink.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Boys, behave."

So. They knew.

He had to wonder if they'd seen this coming and had sat back to watch or knew enough to stay out of it. Eliot didn't doubt either but Sophie severely lacked the ability to stay out of people's business. The Grifter caught his eye and sighed, setting her drink down with a dainty tap. She laced her fingers together in front of her, zeroed in on Nate with her lazer vision.

"I'm going to get a refill," Nate abruptly decided, scrambling out of the booth.

"You do that." Sophie turned her stare to Eliot.

"Wimp," Eliot muttered loud enough for the other man to hear. Nate raised his glass in a salute, continuing his hasty retreat.

Eliot rolled his eyes, counted to ten, and met Sophie's now suspiciously blank gaze. Oh he knew that look. Nate had been on the receiving end of That Look many times, each time proving to be amusing to him. But now That Look was turned to him and he was either in trouble or about to be. This was not going to go well.

"Alright," he sighed, leaning over the table. "Say it."

Sophie tilted her head. "Say what?" she asked innocently.

"The speech you're dyin' to give me about me and Parker."

A small smile, a smile reserved for cons where she was playing a hardass graced her lips. The smile he suspected man lesser men suddenly have to go to the bathroom. Eliot lounged against the booth, the picture of ease, and studied her.

She studied right back, her finger tracing the rim of her glass. "So there is a you and Parker," she said, asking without asking.

That really wasn't fair because a few kisses (he'd lost count at some point) didn't really qualify as a relationship. Eliot wasn't sure what exactly he and Parker were, but it certainly wasn't just teammates or just friends. They weren't really _just_ anything. They were what they were. They could label it later. But Eliot couldn't deny that he wanted it to be something more and hoped with everything he was that she did too.

God help him Tank was going to laugh so hard at him when he found out...

"I can't answer that yet," he replied, fighting to keep his eyes on Sophie and not let them stray to Parker. "Do I want something more? Yes. I'm not gonna use Parker like I used to use other women- I won't insult either of us like that." He downed the last of his beer. "And you wouldn't insult either of us by thinking like that, so I can only assume you just wanted to hear it from me to satisfy your curiosity." He spread his hands wide. "So there you go. Sure, Parker and I have a thing going. No we haven't discussed it. And I'd never, ever hurt her."

Sophie smiled for real then, sipping her fruity drink. "We all know you'd never hurt her. After that little show with Hardison in the hallway how could we not?"

Eliot snorted, the last of the weight gone from his shoulders. "I half think he left his comm in on purpose."

"Probably." The Grifter set her empty glass at the end of the table. "We all care for Parker. This isn't going to be easy and you know it. Hardison isn't hurting as much as he thought he would and I'm okay with it but it's not going to be smooth sailing. It could be," she pointed her toothpick at him, "as long as you don't hurt her," she finished, the most dangerous warning he'd ever heard in her voice.

"And Nate?"

Sophie actually laughed. "Oh, he saw this coming long ago. He made his peace then." She stood, straightening the hem of her dress. "Don't mess up any cons and he won't even say anything to you."

Eliot watched her go, his gaze slipping from her to Parker. She was waving goodbye to the Lane's, her posture drooped a bit. Eliot stood and made his way to her side, hands in his beltloops, unsure of what to do. Ella apparently knew exactly because she wiggled down from her mother and charged at him. She took his hand, then Parker's in both of hers, her smile so wide everything around them dimmed. She regarded them with the kind of innocence and understanding only a six year old could. And then she covered Parker's hand with Eliot's and stepped back.

"That's how it should be," Parker said as Ella signed.

Ella nodded once, firm, and ran back to her parents.

"How do you say goodbye?" Sophie asked from Parker's other side.

Parker moved her fingers so that they were intertwined with his. "Wave," she said, looking at him. "Just wave."

They all did, standing in a line, a wall of family. Nate and Sophie standing arm in arm, wiggling their fingers. Hardison waving his arm wildly, his grin less pained than he thought it would be. And Eliot ran his thumb across the back of Parker's hand, waving calmly to the family they'd just helped, the little girl who'd seen the truth before he'd been able to admit it.

Now after jobs they still got a drink, but Parker went home with Eliot, her things quickly transferring from her warehouse to his apartment. He'd lost a good portion of his closet to her climbing equipment, a small fire proof safe on the floor beside his boots filled with her most precious things. He liked that safe. Parker had money stashed in it of course, but also a picture of the team, and another picture, this one of just them that he'd never seen before and promptly copied and framed. Parker had even let him stash a few of his things in there. (The code to her warehouse might have been Sophie's real name, but the combo to the safe was _his_ birthday.)

(The pin to his bank account was hers.)

They got hand drawn pictures in the mail from Ella every once in a while. Parker pinned them up on the fridge until a new one arrived, the old one lovingly packed into a shoebox next to the safe. She liked to go past the park Ella played at after school. Eliot often drove her without asking, sometimes making the trip on his own. He liked to know she was okay too. It wasn't often they got to keep tabs on people they'd helped and Ella was special to them all. They'd even spotted Hardison at the park once, helping Ella with a handheld game system. The last time they'd swung by she'd been wearing an outfit that could only have come from Sophie as she hung from the monkey bars.

Ella's family now not only had a mother and a father, but a Hitter, a Thief, a Hacker, a Grifter, and a Mastermind. She didn't seem to mind. Parker was teaching them all Sign Language between jobs. (Eliot was learning the fastest.) She complained sometimes that her ring was too shiny and would distract her from whatever she'd been showing them, but she never took it off. After all, she really did love shiny things. Gold was the best but silver was just as good and she cleaned it every other day to make sure the shine never faded.

He hoped to eventually put a nice diamond on her left hand, but for now the small ring he'd given her for Valentine's Day last year, pure silver that she never took off, served her just fine. It wasn't a promise ring in the typical sense- because nothing was ever typical with Parker- but it was a promise all the same. Parker didn't have to break into his- now _their_ -apartment but often did just because she could, and she'd sparred with Tank the other day (who _had_ laughed himself nearly to tears when Eliot told him they were together) and had thrown him clear across the room in under a minute. Eliot made good on the deal himself and had started avoiding what hits he could. He wasn't sure when he'd started doing it, just was one day aware he came home injured less and less.

Eliot glanced at the little black box sitting in the passenger's seat and wondered how soon it would be before he could rope Parker into another deal, one a bit more permanent.

Life is far from easy, but with a clear head and hands to hold anyone can manage. And when the heart stops beating solely for the purpose of blood and starts pumping for someone else, life became the easiest and the most wonderful and the most complicated it would ever be.

End.


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